touch and go

She would have sat there silently and watched him for hours, unlike Hannibal he was in her grasp. She could care for him, she could see with her own eyes the stability in his breathing. His physical presence told her that he was still here and not some fantastical figment of her imagination… The less she thought about Hannibal being gone the better off she was. Deathbelle took in a deep breath as she watched his chest rise and fall, as long as he was breathing he was doing well. He wasn’t out of the woods but he hadn’t died before he’d been stitched up either.

Deathbelle did notice the change as he began to regain consciousness. She lifted her head slightly, vibrant eyes watching him carefully as his own blue gaze blinked open in slow motion. He’d lost a lot of blood and he was badly broken, but waking up so soon gave her hope. He was bandaged and bruised but Deathbelle grinned with obvious affection as this newfound hope surged through her. He whined softly and she leaned closer. ”Shh…” Belle soothed him softly, trying to refrain herself from jostling his broken body. Likely he could hardly hear her but it didn’t matter. She brushed her nose against his in an effort to offer her comfort.