[ The memory is, of course, incredibly fresh for her, lending all the more raw vibrancy to it as her own perspective mingles with his: her mind strained to the breaking point before it began drifting as aimlessly as the station, stripping away kevlar and leather and desperately wishing she could shuck off her skin along with it, the feel of his hand stroking her hair.
She'd felt so miserable and helpless and frustrated; not so different than now, really, just a matter of scale. There's no imminent death, that's already done with.
Just like then, she relaxes against him; not desperately vulnerable in the same way, but clearly craving that comfort. ]
Tossing and turning a lot. Meditation isn't helping.
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She'd felt so miserable and helpless and frustrated; not so different than now, really, just a matter of scale. There's no imminent death, that's already done with.
Just like then, she relaxes against him; not desperately vulnerable in the same way, but clearly craving that comfort. ]
Tossing and turning a lot. Meditation isn't helping.