[ Anathema was normally more heedless, more quick to unthinking physical affection — but that was with other human beings, people accustomed to physical touch and displays of fondness. With an archangel who could probably disintegrate her if he looked at her wrong, and who wasn't accustomed to this? She's treading more carefully. Asking first. ]
Okay. It's okay.
[ And she steps closer, and then just buries her face in Gabriel's chest and wraps her arms around him and squeezes, hard. Exhales. She's tall at 5'7", and so the crown of her head jots just under his chin. He's as tall as Newt was.
For her it's not the same as being wrapped in her mother's comforting embrace, but it's there, both to give and to receive comfort. Anathema's just glad to have the physical presence, another unlikely friend, someone on the other end of the apocalypse who survived it too. With her voice muffled against his shirt: ]
no subject
Okay. It's okay.
[ And she steps closer, and then just buries her face in Gabriel's chest and wraps her arms around him and squeezes, hard. Exhales. She's tall at 5'7", and so the crown of her head jots just under his chin. He's as tall as Newt was.
For her it's not the same as being wrapped in her mother's comforting embrace, but it's there, both to give and to receive comfort. Anathema's just glad to have the physical presence, another unlikely friend, someone on the other end of the apocalypse who survived it too. With her voice muffled against his shirt: ]
Whew. The last few days have sucked.