[ river's face lights up as she watches his starfall form like droplets of water that twinkle and shine as they rain down upon them. it's beautiful, playful in the way the doctor always is ( even when he shouldn't, even when it hurts and he tries to hide it behind a big grin ), so she holds out her hands to try to catch the falling stars - only for them to fizzle out and fade away before they ever reach her palm.
this is, after all, a dream. something is missing. many somethings, yennefer not least among them but always first on river's mind. her smile fades because it hurts and she can't hide behind it. ]
We're settled here for now.
[ she sits on the not-ground, hugging her knees as she watches the stars fall from above. ]
Wish we could stay. It's quieter than the safe room.
[ far away from the negative emotions that are eating her up on the inside. she wonders what it's like for him in the free cities; she's quiet a moment as she blinks at him. ]
Are you claustrophobic?
[ perhaps literally, being stuck in a small space - or perhaps more broadly, trapped in one place with no way forward. he isn't the type to sit still in one place for long. ]
[ She understands better than many (most, really) that call, that pull to the stars. Here, of course, in this dream, they remain so far away, just out of reach.
But there are bigger things to miss right now, to ache for, worry for, wish to hold onto.
When her smile disappears, there's that old familiar feeling that surges in him, that he should be able to do more than just sit with her. That he should be able to give back to her whatever's caused that pain. But she turns it around to him before he can press further, and it takes him a longer moment as he considers how to answer.
In the meantime, he sits with her, crossing his legs beneath him, poking at the jagged edge of a star that's lost its way and tumbles in the nether they exist in right now. Finally — ]
It's a tight space. Hard to tuck myself into it sometimes. I don't fit, I wasn't meant to, I need to feel untethered.
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this is, after all, a dream. something is missing. many somethings, yennefer not least among them but always first on river's mind. her smile fades because it hurts and she can't hide behind it. ]
We're settled here for now.
[ she sits on the not-ground, hugging her knees as she watches the stars fall from above. ]
Wish we could stay. It's quieter than the safe room.
[ far away from the negative emotions that are eating her up on the inside. she wonders what it's like for him in the free cities; she's quiet a moment as she blinks at him. ]
Are you claustrophobic?
[ perhaps literally, being stuck in a small space - or perhaps more broadly, trapped in one place with no way forward. he isn't the type to sit still in one place for long. ]
no subject
But there are bigger things to miss right now, to ache for, worry for, wish to hold onto.
When her smile disappears, there's that old familiar feeling that surges in him, that he should be able to do more than just sit with her. That he should be able to give back to her whatever's caused that pain. But she turns it around to him before he can press further, and it takes him a longer moment as he considers how to answer.
In the meantime, he sits with her, crossing his legs beneath him, poking at the jagged edge of a star that's lost its way and tumbles in the nether they exist in right now. Finally — ]
It's a tight space. Hard to tuck myself into it sometimes. I don't fit, I wasn't meant to, I need to feel untethered.
[ Beyond and beyond, out in the dark. ]