Date: 2018-02-11 06:54 am (UTC)
formicine: (distress)
From: [personal profile] formicine
Sans a houseful of women to clasp her to their bosoms, stroke her hair, or pull her into their laps even when she needs some private space and is an adult, Jimi, I swear, Blue very rarely turns down a hug. Right now, the sort of rib-squeezing, lifted-bodily-off-the-ground embrace that Biffy gives is exactly what she needs. It's not as though it can fill the emptiness in her chest, really, but it feels like it could almost reach it, and she hangs on.

"You're wonderful," she says in a sigh, when she's put back down on her toes; she kicks off her sneakers and pushes them into a sort of line by the door. Manners indicate she should ask if he needs help, but Biffy is a step, maybe a whole universe ahead of her, and everything feels so overwhelming.

She sits and after a minute, does in fact wrap the blankets around her shoulders. "I can't stay," she says after a long minute. "I don't think. Copper, and my cat, and the rats are all still there." Her voice wobbles a little. "But I -- I don't think I can just stay there. The whole place is full of -- " Full of their things, but not them.

Ghosts.
If only that were true.

"Full of no one," she says and runs her hands through her hair, looking helplessly back at Biffy.
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