[He doesn't even really need to ask her to stop watching. She's already backing away as soon as what she sees registers, a soft hand going to cover her mouth; and then she sees the photographs more clearly, the blood, the plastic, and she quickly turns her head as though to run away, and--
-- and then she's stopped short by a long, slim figure, and when her eyes glance up to meet his, they're shining with tears, her soft frame obviously trembling and her little cow legs unsteady beneath her.
She should say something, but-- it's as though her memories are suddenly crashing down around her, and all she can feel is pain and illness, an agony that cuts, literally and figuratively, down to her core, and she collapses at his feet, her hands moving to cover her face.
Somewhere beneath her fingers, she tries to say something, but her voice is muffled, warped with her agony.]
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-- and then she's stopped short by a long, slim figure, and when her eyes glance up to meet his, they're shining with tears, her soft frame obviously trembling and her little cow legs unsteady beneath her.
She should say something, but-- it's as though her memories are suddenly crashing down around her, and all she can feel is pain and illness, an agony that cuts, literally and figuratively, down to her core, and she collapses at his feet, her hands moving to cover her face.
Somewhere beneath her fingers, she tries to say something, but her voice is muffled, warped with her agony.]