[She does though. Tentatively. Slow and barely there when she closes the gap to wrap two fingers round the cuff of his sleeve. As if he were heat, or sharp enough to cut - something that would wound her if she wasn't careful about the sort of contact she's currently making.
Pulls on that sleeve like a thread. Like it'll unravel him and some part of her by proxy. All wordless communication in a noisy, sickly city.]
no subject
Pulls on that sleeve like a thread. Like it'll unravel him and some part of her by proxy. All wordless communication in a noisy, sickly city.]