Falling in stride with Astrid is comfortable, easy. She'd vouch for her, be happy to entrust the kids' safety with her.
(Maybe she needs to unpack why "the kids" now encompasses two eighteen year-olds and a twenty year-old, rather than her own siblings. Later.)
The touch has, unfortunately, the opposite effect of what's intended. Her muscles turn rigid, seizing up as though she'd been electrified, reflexively wrenching away from Astrid. Her gaze snaps towards her, before she makes herself breathe, relax. Don't be a spectacle. Don't draw attention.
"Sorry." Breathe, Abella. "Sorry. I'm--"
Well, she's not going to get into everything because nope and not the time, but she holds out her arm in offering as they walk. It's not you, it's me isn't a cliche yet in her world, but even if it was, she'd be earnest about it.
dude I am so sorry, I was convinced I had tagged back already
(Maybe she needs to unpack why "the kids" now encompasses two eighteen year-olds and a twenty year-old, rather than her own siblings. Later.)
The touch has, unfortunately, the opposite effect of what's intended. Her muscles turn rigid, seizing up as though she'd been electrified, reflexively wrenching away from Astrid. Her gaze snaps towards her, before she makes herself breathe, relax. Don't be a spectacle. Don't draw attention.
"Sorry." Breathe, Abella. "Sorry. I'm--"
Well, she's not going to get into everything because nope and not the time, but she holds out her arm in offering as they walk. It's not you, it's me isn't a cliche yet in her world, but even if it was, she'd be earnest about it.