Oh, Mammon's— [ fuck it, just. fuck all of this. she surges forward to plant a hand on his shoulder and hold him sitting, shoving her other hand into her pocket ] Sit.
[He's taking it on instinct, hand pressed to his chest to take the item, and doesn't realize what it is until it's balanced neatly between two fingers.]
Why are you giving this to me?
[Like, to heal, obviously. But is she already trying to prove her point-?]
Henry uses the card--the first time he's ever had to--watching it disappear in a show of flame. Immediately, his body language minutely changes; the tension from constant, harrowing pain easing from the line of his shoulders.]
[Now he can stand, and to his full height at that, given there's no need to slouch with the pain, with a mangled leg.
He should probably thank her. But acknowledging anything shaped like gratitude feels like a personal betrayal at this very moment. While he considers that-]
[ for a woman who so rarely thanks anyone herself, there is an expectation to her now to be thanked. but it doesn't happen, and she's aware enough at least to not make a fuss about it. ]
[She does not get a thanks, ultimately. She is one of the few people who could—earnestly, as earnestly as Henry Creel can be—but today’s taken its toll.]
Don’t let me keep you.
[He’s already gazing out in the direction of where to go from here — away from the crash sites.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I'd come back.
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I know. But that's not why.
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You sound so confident. Is your stubbornness about this even for my sake, or yours? Would it be so bad to be proven wrong?
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It would make it easier.
[Going to try to stand, now.]
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Oh, Mammon's— [ fuck it, just. fuck all of this. she surges forward to plant a hand on his shoulder and hold him sitting, shoving her other hand into her pocket ] Sit.
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IMMEDIATELY grimaces, but she does indeed keep him seated—]
Sprezzatura—
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[ taps through to purchase a fucking lovers card, sayonara token, and shoves it at his chest ]
Here.
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Why are you giving this to me?
[Like, to heal, obviously. But is she already trying to prove her point-?]
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Fine.
Henry uses the card--the first time he's ever had to--watching it disappear in a show of flame. Immediately, his body language minutely changes; the tension from constant, harrowing pain easing from the line of his shoulders.]
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Now get out of here before you it is all wasted.
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He should probably thank her. But acknowledging anything shaped like gratitude feels like a personal betrayal at this very moment. While he considers that-]
What about you?
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I have people to find.
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Don’t let me keep you.
[He’s already gazing out in the direction of where to go from here — away from the crash sites.]
We’ll talk again later.
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He gives her one last lingering look before he turns and heads away.]