[There's a moment where she probably looks as scared as she feels, and then something in her relaxes as he speaks and he pulls her closer, and she's struck again by how true it is. She loves him, she does and that kind of feeling isn't one that she's known all too much in her life, and it's probably going to hurt her, but she can't help it, and she doesn't think she wants to either. Maybe that's supposed to be the point? That loving someone is supposed to be the easier answer because not doing it's unthinkable. Love's something that she's always fought kicking and screaming, for it or away from it or to hide from it or run to it, she really doesn't know.
Skye lets out a breath and closes her eyes, trying to tamp down on that sort of blind terror that builds when she admits to this sort of thing. She hadn't had the chance to be scared about that when she'd admitted it to Bucky. She didn't have much time at all.
She breathes once, and then again, curling her arms up around his neck so that she can hold on to him, feathers flat against her head and shuddering along her wings. If she just held them out in front of her, she's sure her hands would be shaking. She's exhausted, and still aches, and this sort of thing is harder for her than she wants to admit to.
After a moment she pauses, and then sort of breathes out a laugh, in that sort of laugh so you don't cry way, and looks up at him with that same sort of hopeless half smile she keeps making.]
Hey, I that went better than last time I said it. No one died.
[Skye, queen of bad timing, terrible jokes, and an inability to get through emotional conversations. Also it's the only way to explain really exactly how messy the situation was with Bucky when she'd died. Her timing was impressively bad sometimes, and she's still not sure how kind her timing was, even if she couldn't let him say it to her without saying it back at the time. She couldn't. ]
[Action]
[There's a moment where she probably looks as scared as she feels, and then something in her relaxes as he speaks and he pulls her closer, and she's struck again by how true it is. She loves him, she does and that kind of feeling isn't one that she's known all too much in her life, and it's probably going to hurt her, but she can't help it, and she doesn't think she wants to either. Maybe that's supposed to be the point? That loving someone is supposed to be the easier answer because not doing it's unthinkable. Love's something that she's always fought kicking and screaming, for it or away from it or to hide from it or run to it, she really doesn't know.
Skye lets out a breath and closes her eyes, trying to tamp down on that sort of blind terror that builds when she admits to this sort of thing. She hadn't had the chance to be scared about that when she'd admitted it to Bucky. She didn't have much time at all.
She breathes once, and then again, curling her arms up around his neck so that she can hold on to him, feathers flat against her head and shuddering along her wings. If she just held them out in front of her, she's sure her hands would be shaking. She's exhausted, and still aches, and this sort of thing is harder for her than she wants to admit to.
After a moment she pauses, and then sort of breathes out a laugh, in that sort of laugh so you don't cry way, and looks up at him with that same sort of hopeless half smile she keeps making.]
Hey, I that went better than last time I said it. No one died.
[Skye, queen of bad timing, terrible jokes, and an inability to get through emotional conversations. Also it's the only way to explain really exactly how messy the situation was with Bucky when she'd died. Her timing was impressively bad sometimes, and she's still not sure how kind her timing was, even if she couldn't let him say it to her without saying it back at the time. She couldn't. ]