[ At that, he huffs out a breath, halfway between a quiet oh and a laugh, the resulting smile lingering on his features. ]
I cannot beat back demons that I cannot see, but I will do my best. Sleep, or there will be nothing left of you in waking. [ And fitful though her dreams might sometimes be, proper sleep would do her a little good.
Could he fight the worst of her dreams, there is no question as to if he would, armed with nothing but his bare fists if it was demanded of him. That fervent spark flickers in his eyes, its edges given softness by the adoration that wells there, too, in the grey-green that, for the moment, seems not lively, but bright in the way of the embers of a flame. He is old (old beyond his years, as she is), and though it becomes all too apparent upon occasion (when exhaustion catches up to him and the lines on his face seem sharper than ever), there is still youth in his love for her. ]
Dream of me, [ he tells her, nose wrinkling for an instant. ] Better equipped to fight the worst of your fevers. Perhaps it may come to pass.
no subject
I cannot beat back demons that I cannot see, but I will do my best. Sleep, or there will be nothing left of you in waking. [ And fitful though her dreams might sometimes be, proper sleep would do her a little good.
Could he fight the worst of her dreams, there is no question as to if he would, armed with nothing but his bare fists if it was demanded of him. That fervent spark flickers in his eyes, its edges given softness by the adoration that wells there, too, in the grey-green that, for the moment, seems not lively, but bright in the way of the embers of a flame. He is old (old beyond his years, as she is), and though it becomes all too apparent upon occasion (when exhaustion catches up to him and the lines on his face seem sharper than ever), there is still youth in his love for her. ]
Dream of me, [ he tells her, nose wrinkling for an instant. ] Better equipped to fight the worst of your fevers. Perhaps it may come to pass.