[ What's becoming steadily clearer to Snow is that this isn't home — not just because there's less here that's familiar than anything she otherwise knew, but because the rules are different. Beyond that, she doesn't necessarily know who she can trust here yet — at least, apart from the person she's known the longest, but maybe that goes without saying. ]
I don't know that I could — [ She starts to protest before he can finish his words, only to fall silent when he offers to essentially stay here and watch over her so she can get some needed shuteye.
It's a suggestion that she can't immediately dismiss, not when she knows part of the reason she feels less capable of dealing with all of this is because it's the middle of the night and it was the Darkwalker responsible for pulling her out of sleep in the first place. Even now, she's still trying to shake those lingering feelings of dread, of fear, and the thought of having to lay back down and try to quiet her mind again is something she doesn't want to navigate alone. ]
... okay.
[ Although her first instinct is to protest him sitting in the chair, rather than making himself more comfortable, deep down she knows he'll insist. So instead of fighting him on that point, she pauses, looking to him, her gaze saying a myriad of things that don't actually make it out before she starts moving back towards her cot, the frame creaking as she settles down onto it and then draws the covers back to tuck her legs underneath. ] Thank you.
no subject
I don't know that I could — [ She starts to protest before he can finish his words, only to fall silent when he offers to essentially stay here and watch over her so she can get some needed shuteye.
It's a suggestion that she can't immediately dismiss, not when she knows part of the reason she feels less capable of dealing with all of this is because it's the middle of the night and it was the Darkwalker responsible for pulling her out of sleep in the first place. Even now, she's still trying to shake those lingering feelings of dread, of fear, and the thought of having to lay back down and try to quiet her mind again is something she doesn't want to navigate alone. ]
... okay.
[ Although her first instinct is to protest him sitting in the chair, rather than making himself more comfortable, deep down she knows he'll insist. So instead of fighting him on that point, she pauses, looking to him, her gaze saying a myriad of things that don't actually make it out before she starts moving back towards her cot, the frame creaking as she settles down onto it and then draws the covers back to tuck her legs underneath. ] Thank you.