It's her default answer still, as she follows him. She's careful to keep space between them, shoulders hunched with her hands gripped together in front of her, but not enough space that it looks like she's falling behind and not too little that it feels like she's about to overtake him and run off. It's carefully calculated space and she can still smell his soap and it makes her chest ache enough that her hands lift finally to curl around her mother's necklace.
She tries to occupy her mind with imagining ways to disable him if he were Melshi because she still can't imagine hurting Cassian, even to distract herself.
no subject
It's her default answer still, as she follows him. She's careful to keep space between them, shoulders hunched with her hands gripped together in front of her, but not enough space that it looks like she's falling behind and not too little that it feels like she's about to overtake him and run off. It's carefully calculated space and she can still smell his soap and it makes her chest ache enough that her hands lift finally to curl around her mother's necklace.
She tries to occupy her mind with imagining ways to disable him if he were Melshi because she still can't imagine hurting Cassian, even to distract herself.