[ Warm puffs of breath ghost over her jaw, her neck, and she shivers involuntarily at the sensation. A ripple of gooseflesh pimples her bare arms, and she swallows, half-turns her head to glance at him. She can't actually meet his eyes this close, and looking towards him only puts her a few inches from his neck and jaw and cheek. Even with those sideburns, he can probably feel her breath just as easily.
And yet, for some reason, he hasn't pulled back in a fluster, unable to make eye contact with her. He's still here, and they're so close that her voice has lowered, and every time he says something in that pleasant low rumble that's been a problem from the very first day she met him she feels like she needs to go stick her head in a snowbank to regain what's left of her sanity. ]
It's not the necklace, it's the ring.
[ She turns her body now, a little, letting go of his hand so she can catch the thin golden chain with her thumb, lifting the ring hanging from it into his field of view. It glints in the light, a simple gold wedding band; it matches the one March has worn every day since he arrived here. She can still remember how he looked, sitting there on the porch, staring at it, when she arrived. ]
See?
[ She can carry this for him, for as long as he needs. That's the deal they'd made: she'll carry the ring, and he'll hold onto her daddy's badge. Maybe no one else here would trust Holland March with something so important... but no one at home would trust her with it, either.
She knows that's important to Little, too; she'd told him months ago that he'd earned her trust, that she could leave Peacemaker with him. Maybe if March hadn't been the one she found first, he'd have been the one she'd asked to protect the thing that's so dear and so hateful to her at the same time. ]
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And yet, for some reason, he hasn't pulled back in a fluster, unable to make eye contact with her. He's still here, and they're so close that her voice has lowered, and every time he says something in that pleasant low rumble that's been a problem from the very first day she met him she feels like she needs to go stick her head in a snowbank to regain what's left of her sanity. ]
It's not the necklace, it's the ring.
[ She turns her body now, a little, letting go of his hand so she can catch the thin golden chain with her thumb, lifting the ring hanging from it into his field of view. It glints in the light, a simple gold wedding band; it matches the one March has worn every day since he arrived here. She can still remember how he looked, sitting there on the porch, staring at it, when she arrived. ]
See?
[ She can carry this for him, for as long as he needs. That's the deal they'd made: she'll carry the ring, and he'll hold onto her daddy's badge. Maybe no one else here would trust Holland March with something so important... but no one at home would trust her with it, either.
She knows that's important to Little, too; she'd told him months ago that he'd earned her trust, that she could leave Peacemaker with him. Maybe if March hadn't been the one she found first, he'd have been the one she'd asked to protect the thing that's so dear and so hateful to her at the same time. ]