by Alpha* » Tue Jul 11, 2023 8:26 pm
He'd never actually told her what he does... did. And now isn't the best time to do it, is it? No... they don't know eachother well enough. What if she freaks out? What if she tells? Obviously the whole 'crash' thing is enough of a cover - it has been all over the TV. Would she confront him? Would he keep having to lie? The Agency hadn't exactly decided to keep him around, and he definitely doesn't want to go back. Right? No, not even a smidgen. (That's a bit of sarcasm, he does miss the work. The action.) The Agency had tossed him aside, almost like garbage when they couldn't use him; even though he had devoted years to them. Years in the service of his country.
Morag is pulled from his circling thoughts by her gentle tone, by the almost coaxing words. He misses his horse. Misses riding. "I miss him," is mumbled slowly, "I miss riding... " His adams-apple bobs when he swallows, "the docs said it wasn't safe to ride, not until I get better... like this. Get used to it." How's he supposed to get used to not seeing the sun? Or the dizzy spells? And the migraines? They say in therapy to not dwell on what you miss, to count your blessings.
She is a blessing. Her being here helps him not spiral. Helps him brush away his anger, his grief.
Slowly he sinks back into the couch, "maybe.. we could just go sit.. sometime? Have... have a picnic again?" He's scared she's going to jerk the rug out from under his feet, like Jemma. But Emily isnt like her. Emily is better. "I-if you want? I-i mean, we don't have to-" his cheeks flame and the injured man wonders if they're red. It'd been the memories of that almost-date the second day after they'd met - with his bratty horse being covered in mud, and cold chicken sandwiches, the way she'd laughed - that had helped him not go crazy sitting in the hospital, too dazed and confused and lost to do anything but sit and stew or fall asleep.. when sleep came. If sleep came--
Mor swallows again, wondering if he's supposed to tell her all that he'd been instructed by the doctors, and therapists. Or is he supposed to keep her in the dark, like he is? Had Scott told her? His friend that is like a brother, yet somehow closer. He feels as Yarn stretches out his paws and kneads at his gray cloth covered thigh, sharp claws prickling at his skin, "I like him too.. Scott said he's about five years old, the old house owners just left him here." And maybe he's grasping at sticks and straws but if she's talking then he doesn't have to think, Emily is safe. She's here. He's safe. He takes a breath, "maybe.. we could... ride.. sometime, maybe around the arena... just to start, when the docs say okay?"
“Thanks to all those in any kind of uniform and to those who have been in uniform.”
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“Sadly i have a life outside CS with a job...and other things[color=#00BFFF]”
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