(no subject)

[shelley_winters]

It hurts.

Everything hurts now, her head, and eyes and throat from crying on and off, weak and hopeless and angry.

(It's not fair not fair it's not-)

Her hands and feet are freezing cold, though it's a relief to press chill fingers to her hot aching head. She's stopped feeling hungry. Curled against the wall on her bed, Shelley shivers.

She can't get up.

She's not well, she should sleep if she's not-

(No dreaming, stop it, not fair)

No sleep. Rest a bit more, that's sensible, makes sense to rest when you hurt.

Her throat is sore, but she just drank some water, and she's too tired to get up again.

The door remains locked.

Comments

[shelley_winters]

"I don't want to be. But I can't- not..."

Her hands tighten slightly, but she no longer seems to need to cry.

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

His arms still cradling her snugly as he glances down at her. A long sigh because he knew what it was like to be where she was, and he had no arms to take shelter in.

"I know what you are feeling. I have been there. You are not alone."

(I know what sorrow is all about)

[shelley_winters]

Shelley nods quietly, green eyes open but distant. She knows.

The room is cold.

[forsaken-bard.livejournal.com]

She lay in his arms, almost like a corpse. Cradling her small body, he occasionally sang softly to her, but mainly he held her-his cheek to her forehead in a close embrace, so that that any onlooker might consider them each a trivial part of a single whole-incomplete without the other.

And the Wheel of Time turned.

[shelley_winters]

The room slowly grows dark as the hour gets later. Only the soft sound of his voice as he sings breaks the silence.

Eventually she sleeps, still curled up at the end of her bed.