• When she first grasped Shelke's hand, she couldn't understand.
    She had pulled one of her hands away from her side for a quick 'how do you do', like Reeve sometimes does when he meets a new face, when Shelke pulled her hand back to her side at an incredible speed. The glove burned her hand, blurring her vision.

    Instinct told her to hide the tears.

    Blinking the tears away, her vision sharpened to see Shelke's eyes soften ever so slightly. She stood there silently, watching as the ex-Tsviet turned on her heel and walked down the hallway with a little too much military precision.

    After seeing Shelke walk out of sight, she felt her eyes burn again and ran in the opposite direction down the hall.

    ·- ~*~ -·


    Crying on Vincent's shoulder, she told him what happened.
    Brushing the hair away from her face, he soothed her fears as best as he could.
    'Give her time.'

    ·- ~*~ -·


    When it was all, yet almost over, she was stumbling down the stairs of her home into the bar-area to ask for breakfast.
    As soon as she touched the floor she froze and stared at the window-side table in all her nighty-wearing, bed-headed glory.

    Shelke was there, sitting, staring out the window. Her old uniform was gone, replaced with colours that made her look more friendly, more approachable, more open...

    More broken, twisted and scared than ever before.

    She trotted across the room and sat by Shelke's side and placed her hand next to her companion's.

    Shelke turned her head away from the window to look at the girl. The girl looked into her eyes and stared right back.

    Their eyes told everything.

    They shifted their hands to hold each other's and sat in silence, waiting for him to come home.