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Yeah. She kisses the top of his head.

And - "Thank you, Daisy."

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She ducks her head shyly. "You're welcome."

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He nods emphatically.

"Thank you."

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"You're welcome."

"What should I tell them, when we get to the hospital?"

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"About what?"

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"About you - both of you."

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"She's - probably fine." She doesn't pick up her head from where it rests on his; even if her voice is muffled, his will do the job. "She's not as recovered as she looks, she's borrowing his mind to remember things with and talk, but she's still improving on her own. She'll be able to undo it, she thinks, but we haven't decided how much we want that, and anyway they can't help. They should probably check the burns from the other day, but she's not otherwise injured. He's -" Does he want to talk now? She suspects he doesn't, but it's his if he wants it.

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"Castrated," he says, feeling like he's speaking from a little distance outside himself, "for...a month? Missing this arm from...yesterday. Probably not damaged inside. It was done carefully. But maybe."

 

This all belongs to him. Whatever he is.

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She squeezes him tight. Love you. (How strong he is.)

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"All right. I'll make sure they know you're not to be separated. Their VIP room is on the small side for two, but it should be fine."

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"It's okay."

Can he still–

"Right now I think we're only one and a half."

...he still can.

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She chuckles, only a little darkly - and that she can do on her own, it's not words - and reaches up to pet his hair.

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He sighs and melts a little again, murmuring "thankyoudaisy" as he nuzzles into her hand.

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She keeps petting him, and when Daisy settles in rather than taking that as a cue to leave, scoots him up so that she can kiss him again.

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He makes a contented sound and kisses her back happily.

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So good. To have him, to have him happy, to be the source of his happiness. The kissing - kissing him - is nice in and of itself, too, but doesn't hold a candle to that, really. (She loves him so much.)

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After a while, Daisy reaches out, hesitantly, to rub his back.

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He starts a little at the unexpected hand–

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–but he relaxes, after a moment, lets it happen.

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It doesn't take long, though, this time, for him to start realizing–

 

 

He pulls away, curls in on himself away from both of them.

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Daisy flinches back; Pradnakt, given a little more warning, manages to let him go without resistance.

What's wrong, Love?

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He took this too.

There’s a brief emotional echo, not even sent intentionally, of what he would have felt before.

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Ah. Yeah.

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He wraps his arm around his knees and goes silent.

 

 

 

 

you need to teach me how to use a saber

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Yeah.

She unholsters hers, considers it: on one hand she wants to just give it to him - if he needs a 'saber he should have one - but on the other hand... there's not even a logic to it, at least not that she remembers, just a feeling that there is no level of intimacy that can allow for that, it's just conceptually impossible, no matter how much she wants it.

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