[ eyes lifting up from the cup in his hand, hung looks at her for a moment, seeing the fist that she makes. it all feels - hopeless. like they really are just doomed to keep seeing the people they grow close to get picked off, one by one, by more of their friends. what are they going to do, if it turns out that whisper was so brutally killed by someone they care about? what are they doing to do, if someone they'd been laughing with left janeway? ]
And it doesn't even point us towards a definite answer. Not right now, anyways.
[ he sets his drink down, reaching to take her fist and carefully coax it into unfurling. your heart is a muscle the size of your fist, he thinks, and brings her hand to bump her knuckles into his chest. ]
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And it doesn't even point us towards a definite answer. Not right now, anyways.
[ he sets his drink down, reaching to take her fist and carefully coax it into unfurling. your heart is a muscle the size of your fist, he thinks, and brings her hand to bump her knuckles into his chest. ]