[It crosses her mind, almost absently, that in a movie or a storybook or something else with a heavy emphasis on visuals, this would be one of those moments where she'd launch herself into the air off of the stairwell, and his arms would be waiting, and she'd fall gracefully down and be caught in them and he'd swing her around with the greatest of ease. And really, she's almost half-tempted to indulge that idea, stupid as it is. She could cast her flight spell on herself and it would all work out. She could make it happen.
But somehow, thinking about it, she comes to the exhausted realization that for all that she's crafted her reality around her persona of being a witch, this is actually one of the few rare times when she doesn't have to be that, either. No magic, no theatrics, no gaudy displays of power.
She stands up on her own two feet, and gets her legs under her, and descends until she's able to take his hands and let him guide her down the rest of the way.]
...We'll figure it out?
[When they get home, she means. He'll take her home like he promised and they'll sit and they'll figure it out.
What she's really asking, probably, is is it going to be okay, and looking to him in the hopes that he'll supply her with a yes.]
no subject
But somehow, thinking about it, she comes to the exhausted realization that for all that she's crafted her reality around her persona of being a witch, this is actually one of the few rare times when she doesn't have to be that, either. No magic, no theatrics, no gaudy displays of power.
She stands up on her own two feet, and gets her legs under her, and descends until she's able to take his hands and let him guide her down the rest of the way.]
...We'll figure it out?
[When they get home, she means. He'll take her home like he promised and they'll sit and they'll figure it out.
What she's really asking, probably, is is it going to be okay, and looking to him in the hopes that he'll supply her with a yes.]