[Were she another jedi, she might have pushed him away. If she were facing him, she might have refused contact, and insisted that she was fine. But his embrace is secure, and he can't see her face from the way he holds her, so she leaves it be. She takes the gift she is given and her slight but strong fingers find the arm around her shoulders. Her grip, which wants to push as much as it wants to pull, stays and holds fast.
She had been forced to grow up years ago, but Anakin's death had made her feel like a small girl again, unable to accept that which she had no control over. Back then, she had no support network, for then she would have to admit that she had allowed herself that which was forbidden.
The wounds had not festered then. She doesn't think they will fester now, and she can't picture a time where they would ever be clean. But it is too easy to allow herself the time to cry, even if her muscles lock up and her spine stays stiff to prevent her from collapsing into hysteria.
She feels unclean, for allowing herself to grieve. Though those who had always been close to her would not have blinked, she had been raised under the notion that everyone else would.]
no subject
[Were she another jedi, she might have pushed him away. If she were facing him, she might have refused contact, and insisted that she was fine. But his embrace is secure, and he can't see her face from the way he holds her, so she leaves it be. She takes the gift she is given and her slight but strong fingers find the arm around her shoulders. Her grip, which wants to push as much as it wants to pull, stays and holds fast.
She had been forced to grow up years ago, but Anakin's death had made her feel like a small girl again, unable to accept that which she had no control over. Back then, she had no support network, for then she would have to admit that she had allowed herself that which was forbidden.
The wounds had not festered then. She doesn't think they will fester now, and she can't picture a time where they would ever be clean. But it is too easy to allow herself the time to cry, even if her muscles lock up and her spine stays stiff to prevent her from collapsing into hysteria.
She feels unclean, for allowing herself to grieve. Though those who had always been close to her would not have blinked, she had been raised under the notion that everyone else would.]