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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2017 2:38 pm
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Spreading her arms wide, America gives him both the biggest and tiniest of hugs, then rests her head against him. The sound of his heart and bellows of his lungs are massive, thundering steadily through ribs and flesh and she wonders if this is what people feel when they believe in a god worth loving, when they step into a church to bow their head and humble their heart. It's easy to get caught up in the rythmic thrum thrum of life, easy to get caught up in the perfection of a human body, working as intended.
It’s harder to find her own for once, small and fast and feather light by comparison. But it's there, and in finding both, she finds her tension easing out of the space between. And then that space begins to change, her heart beat trying to meet the powerful march of his own, its stride stretching to catch up and up and up
And then she exhales with him, breath warm against his chest, arms falling gently to either side of the man, no longer some powerful giant. Another breath and then she tilts her head up to look at him with a dazed smile, and says, of all things, "Obadiah Thompson, you're all kinds of amazing."
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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2017 2:45 pm
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He is silent for a long, long time, and then he laughs. It is a strange and incredulous laugh and it goes on a little longer than is his wont, with his hands tight on her arms. It is, maybe, slightly hysterical, a point underscored by the sudden uptick in that self-same heartbeat. He's the sort of person whose anxiety spikes catch up to him, sometimes.
"You literally just Alice-in-Wonderlanded and came back and you're gonna give me the bullshit line that I'm the amazing one. OK." And then he lifts her chin on his fingertips, tipping her face this way and that in a strangely clinical way, like he's looking for some kind of scar. "You're OK, right? No harm done? I'm not gonna buy you a ******** Barbie dream house if you're not OK."
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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2017 5:11 pm
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He closes his eyes again, trying to ward off that terrifying mental image. That is a worry for another time.
"You might wanna text Jeremiah and let him know you're the right size again, at some point," he says. "Sorry, wasn't sure who else to ask." It would be extraordinarily easy for that thought to lead to since Sunny isn't here, not really and so he breezes past it and onto the next thought. "Glad it wasn't a bad way to wake up for you." The for you just barely manages to be polite instead of pointed. A pause. "And then if--if this is like when you were--learning the first thing, if you need me for that again." To just be there, helpless, an anchor. "I can do that. But I'm still not letting you climb my beard, that's weird."
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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2017 5:16 pm
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