…Good. [He admits, simply, with a small smile, and though he could wheedle even more, Henry chooses not to.
One more turn about the room, nearing the window with the telescope and its grand display of the city, the moon with its tears.
Here, the song swells to a crescendo, which must certainly mean it’s ending — and where she had been bold enough to dip him, he extends his hand that remains clasped against hers, guiding her into a neat little twirl.]
[ oh, she's being twirled. if this were really what it seemed, her skirts would flare out around her legs, but the reality is, she's in her prison uniform, and so is he. the gesture itself still carries through, though; it makes her chest twinge with the strangest feelings of nostalgia and frustration. why is this one of the better dances she's ever had. ]
[They’re hardly dressed for the occasion, are they? Even within a memory, their prison garb reminds them of their situation, but at least the observatory, paired with its gramophone song, is distraction enough to enjoy the final touches of a dance.
The tune plays its last note, and he releases his grip, amused as the momentum of her twirl comes to a stop almost exactly timed with the end of the song.
Yes, and you didn't. [ god this was dumb, she's so dumb. she grabs his glass first, then notices the lack of lipstick mark on the rim and sets it down again. swaps. ] You've done well. I will admit this.
Ms Vaux. [ the correction is automatic, muttered because she doesn't believe he'll adjust anyway, and she follows it quickly with: ] No, nothing.
[ because anything else is not being entertained today, no matter how unexpectedly welcome this sojourn ended up. her heart aches already, missing it anew. ]
[ is she ready? is she? she takes a short, soft breath but doesn't answer yet, instead passing one final look around her observatory, exactly as she left it. the room smells like wood smoke.
[And just like that, they will be back. Sitting at the table amid the canteen, junk food still half-eaten before them, Henry with his elbows on the table and a trickle of red eking warmly down his nose. He smiles.]
[Henry will notice. What else would garner his attention more?
But such observations are easily interrupted when she leans forward and catches his blood with the fabric of her sleeve. His brow furrows and he leans back instinctively, leaving red smeared just under his nostril.]
Don’t worry about the blood. It’s normal and more frequent here.
[Brings up a finger to touch that spot, instinctive.]
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[ the most reluctant mutter as he continues to turn her about the room ]
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One more turn about the room, nearing the window with the telescope and its grand display of the city, the moon with its tears.
Here, the song swells to a crescendo, which must certainly mean it’s ending — and where she had been bold enough to dip him, he extends his hand that remains clasped against hers, guiding her into a neat little twirl.]
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The tune plays its last note, and he releases his grip, amused as the momentum of her twirl comes to a stop almost exactly timed with the end of the song.
Gestures at her, eyes approving.]
Perfect.
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It would suffice, yes.
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It could have been worse. I could have stepped on your toes.
[Oh, did he embarrass her?]
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Then why do you seem put out?
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Embarrassed? I’ll let you spin me next time if it helps.
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Sips his wine.]
You were still the better dancer.
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[ Sholmes was right. she does hate to take a compliment. ]
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Well.
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[She seems allergic to them, truly. Henry swirls what’s left of his wine.]
Was there anything else you wanted to do while we’re in here?
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[ because anything else is not being entertained today, no matter how unexpectedly welcome this sojourn ended up. her heart aches already, missing it anew. ]
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Then we return to where we were. Are you ready? Close your eyes.
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closes her eyes ]
...I suppose there we have it.
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[Another dive into memory, if she would have it.]
Some other time. For now, open your eyes.
[And just like that, they will be back. Sitting at the table amid the canteen, junk food still half-eaten before them, Henry with his elbows on the table and a trickle of red eking warmly down his nose. He smiles.]
Still with me?
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Mm. Still with you...
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But such observations are easily interrupted when she leans forward and catches his blood with the fabric of her sleeve. His brow furrows and he leans back instinctively, leaving red smeared just under his nostril.]
Don’t worry about the blood. It’s normal and more frequent here.
[Brings up a finger to touch that spot, instinctive.]
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Oh. I... didn't mean...
[ to do that ]
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[He says, distantly. Drops his hand, rubbing blood between forefinger and thumb.]
Just a side effect. You’ll be seeing it often, I’m sure.
How do you feel?
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