heritors: (pic#10680544)
ʟᴜᴄɪɴᴀ 'ᴡᴇᴇɴɪᴇ ᴍᴀɢɴᴇᴛ' ᴄʜʀᴏᴍsᴏɴ ([personal profile] heritors) wrote in [community profile] epidemiology 2017-04-11 05:01 am (UTC)

[ It's hard to slow her breathing; her body's still buzzing with adrenaline, heart going a mile a minute, muscles still tense. While she doesn't acknowledge it ( refuses to, because she was right, he snapped out of it— ) her body instinctively knows what she just experienced was the closest she got to death... in recent memory. It explains the strain in the air even if the worst of it has passed, the way that this quiet feels oppressive compared to the one they had mere minutes ago.

Yet the silence stretches, just not for the right reasons — to the point where she's hyper-aware of his movements, but doesn't move away. But she's also resisting the shove with whatever strength she still has, legs still planted where they are, her upper body only having give because he's physically stronger than her. ]


... [ Yet that seems to be the cue she needs to finally start to relax, her breath eventually evening out now that the immediate threat is gone ( but now comes the challenge of keeping from collapsing on top of him, to control just how much fatigue she feels ). Lucina lifts herself up, slowly, carefully, until her weight is off of him entirely. Lets go of his hand the moment the twist gets too uncomfortable, quietly ignoring the way that her hand seems to shake, or the throbbing in her wrist. That's as far as she's willing to listen, though; instead, makes a point to sit beside him, with back leaning against the wall. Knees tucked to her chest, not leaving.

Before he moves she's reaching out to grip his hand again. She's not taking any chances right now, for his sake, her's, and the 4 prone bodies ( people, victims ) on the ground. ]

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