[ At the tilt of her head, he has another set of conflicting choices. This one skimming so close to a dream, the kind where he's been brave enough to tip his chin down to kiss her. He wants it enough that it burns on the inside; a longing ache to the bone. His mouth is dry when she lifts her arms, allowing him to be closer to undo the bandage.
Carefully, he leans in, looping his arms up and around her ribs and making sure he touched her as little as possible. For both of their sakes. Light fingertips follow the line of the bandage to the knot—at this point, he's wholly in her space. If he angled his head down, he could kiss her neck. Drawing in a shaky breath, he works on undoing the tie, tugging lightly so he didn't aggravate her wound.
It finally loosens and he unravels the fabric slowly. The other end of it is pressed against her skin, close enough to the cut that he doesn't want to tug on it. If he wants to finish undoing it, he'll have to brush his fingers along her shoulder. Water felt like it was in his lungs, weighing his limbs down, paralyzing and suffocating in turn.
He could do this. She's alive, her eyes dark as a night sky, posture graceful and elegant as the acrobat she'd been born into.
Two fingers slide under the last of the bandage and he feels dizzy, nausea working its way up and fighting the brief buzz of cool relief. Dimly, he knew he was in the Geldrunner, helping Inej with her bandages. His vision blurred, though, and all he could see was the rock of Ketterdam's harbor. The unseeing eyes of those who passed in the plague. Jordie's too soft and waxen skin under his hands. ]
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Carefully, he leans in, looping his arms up and around her ribs and making sure he touched her as little as possible. For both of their sakes. Light fingertips follow the line of the bandage to the knot—at this point, he's wholly in her space. If he angled his head down, he could kiss her neck. Drawing in a shaky breath, he works on undoing the tie, tugging lightly so he didn't aggravate her wound.
It finally loosens and he unravels the fabric slowly. The other end of it is pressed against her skin, close enough to the cut that he doesn't want to tug on it. If he wants to finish undoing it, he'll have to brush his fingers along her shoulder. Water felt like it was in his lungs, weighing his limbs down, paralyzing and suffocating in turn.
He could do this. She's alive, her eyes dark as a night sky, posture graceful and elegant as the acrobat she'd been born into.
Two fingers slide under the last of the bandage and he feels dizzy, nausea working its way up and fighting the brief buzz of cool relief. Dimly, he knew he was in the Geldrunner, helping Inej with her bandages. His vision blurred, though, and all he could see was the rock of Ketterdam's harbor. The unseeing eyes of those who passed in the plague. Jordie's too soft and waxen skin under his hands. ]