seem: (❝ this is not harmless)
PETYR BAELISH ([personal profile] seem) wrote in [personal profile] wont 2012-04-29 06:57 am (UTC)

( ACTION )

[ Help is on its way, he had said. 'Til then, I shall be brave in your stead. But the help had never arrived. There had been no help nor succor, just the knowledge that something was wrong, that something had been given or taken that shouldn't have. The feeling that one's skin might peel back and reveal the flaw, the mistake. You should be dead. (This is as close as he will get to being sympathetic.)

Slowly, Petyr pushes himself up to perch upon the edge of the bed, careful to still leave some distance between them. (He will not touch her against her wishes, not now. Truth be told, that caution is as much for him as it is for her. When she had opened her eyes once more, for once in his life — for a single instant — he hadn't known what to do.)

He offers up a small smile, one that flickers and dies but is meant as a sort of comfort. He can read her better than even her own brothers, he would like to think, particularly in light of the parallel paths that their lives have chosen to take. (It's a cruel twist of fate, of carelessness.)
]

I know, [ is what he says, the words stripped of any other meaning, bare and frank. It's not an answer to her stammer, but it's the most, he thinks, that he can give her. ]

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