emma scoffs slightly at the word, as if possibly defining either moment in such a way is absurd to her.
by no stretch of the imagination would she call either instance "intimate," but she finds a strange sense of similarity in seeking an anchor out of the contact. he'd clung to her hand like it was the only rock in an ortherwise brutal, unrepentant storm, and emma had sought means by which to ground herself, even if that had been in faraday's touch (or lack thereof). unpleasant as the sensation may have been, it had given her an anchor of her own, forcefully rooting her in the reality of the moment because now? she didn't feel the same tug of her nightmares; the forceful drag of sleep is momentarily gone, and she knows it's her body's way of responding to something that it can't understand.
but that's rightfully better than drifting off without meaning to and spending hours more in bright and hellish dreams. it may not be death that she seeks to tether herself from, but faraday had provided a much needed anchor to the waking world, and she's beyond grateful for it.
as he starts to rise, she nods, resting her chin on her knees. ]
I'd be much obliged if you'd see to it.
[ she appreciates it, because she still doesn't feel that she's ready to get her feet under her. she glances towards his face again, her expression not quite troubled, but thoughtful. ]
Also.
[ she hesitates, then sighs softly. ]
I apologize if I overstepped my bounds asking that of you - to touch me, I mean.
[ it had helped, certainly, but she'd seen the look on his face, knew that the reminder of what he is was not a pleasant one. ]
no subject
emma scoffs slightly at the word, as if possibly defining either moment in such a way is absurd to her.
by no stretch of the imagination would she call either instance "intimate," but she finds a strange sense of similarity in seeking an anchor out of the contact. he'd clung to her hand like it was the only rock in an ortherwise brutal, unrepentant storm, and emma had sought means by which to ground herself, even if that had been in faraday's touch (or lack thereof). unpleasant as the sensation may have been, it had given her an anchor of her own, forcefully rooting her in the reality of the moment because now? she didn't feel the same tug of her nightmares; the forceful drag of sleep is momentarily gone, and she knows it's her body's way of responding to something that it can't understand.
but that's rightfully better than drifting off without meaning to and spending hours more in bright and hellish dreams. it may not be death that she seeks to tether herself from, but faraday had provided a much needed anchor to the waking world, and she's beyond grateful for it.
as he starts to rise, she nods, resting her chin on her knees. ]
I'd be much obliged if you'd see to it.
[ she appreciates it, because she still doesn't feel that she's ready to get her feet under her. she glances towards his face again, her expression not quite troubled, but thoughtful. ]
Also.
[ she hesitates, then sighs softly. ]
I apologize if I overstepped my bounds asking that of you - to touch me, I mean.
[ it had helped, certainly, but she'd seen the look on his face, knew that the reminder of what he is was not a pleasant one. ]