Well, he supposes she wouldn't know exactly how those arguments went. Achilles may not have had the physical strength to kick a wall in, but there was power in his voice that would probably sway many.
He smiles gently at the whine, and only makes a slight face when she returns the favour. It's only fair, after all.
"I'm sure I did."
He pushes himself up enough to take a seat next to her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head while at it, as he releases one of her hands but keeps holding onto the other.
She leans in - and as much as she wants to keep up her teasing banter with him, in a second she will to make sure - make sure he's okay. That he's back to himself. That's what matters most.
But for that second when he kisses her forehead, her eyes close, and she breathes out so slowly. He's there and he's okay. He wants to kiss her still, wants to hold her. It'd been easier if he'd just been gone. Then she wouldn't have to look at him and want to touch him, but have to stop every impulse and make it worse.
Her eyes close and her head tilts up. Her now free hand resting on his shoulder as she curls it up against his clothes, holding him tightly. The warmth of him, his heart beat loud in her ears again, soothing and settling through her.
"It was hell, Connor." She breathes out at last. As much as she could admit. "You were right there, and I couldn't talk to you. I couldn't ask you anything. You looked at me and..." she might as well have been a ghost in the shadow of their relationship that never was. Erased in a way not even Jack could divine to be so hurtful.
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He smiles gently at the whine, and only makes a slight face when she returns the favour. It's only fair, after all.
"I'm sure I did."
He pushes himself up enough to take a seat next to her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head while at it, as he releases one of her hands but keeps holding onto the other.
no subject
But for that second when he kisses her forehead, her eyes close, and she breathes out so slowly. He's there and he's okay. He wants to kiss her still, wants to hold her. It'd been easier if he'd just been gone. Then she wouldn't have to look at him and want to touch him, but have to stop every impulse and make it worse.
Her eyes close and her head tilts up. Her now free hand resting on his shoulder as she curls it up against his clothes, holding him tightly. The warmth of him, his heart beat loud in her ears again, soothing and settling through her.
"It was hell, Connor." She breathes out at last. As much as she could admit. "You were right there, and I couldn't talk to you. I couldn't ask you anything. You looked at me and..." she might as well have been a ghost in the shadow of their relationship that never was. Erased in a way not even Jack could divine to be so hurtful.