book 5: wounds

In the midst of his breakdown, he doesn't notice Jael work. How she stokes the fire, piling it with more wood. Moving the curtain and closing the door, providing them with more privacy. Indeed, no one needed to see the Raid King in such a state. He doesn't realize it and will be thankful for Jael in the future. That she is there for him, to support him, help his wounds heal. Even if it doesn't fix his situation with Modesty, it will give him time to think. To come up with a solution. Jael... she couldn't leave. Right? Fuck.

Suddenly he feels her reach out. An attempt to touch him. He stiffens, every nerve under his skin alight with sensitivity. His lips ripple with a snarl, but he continues to be still. Frozen, unable to move, his legs feel like Jell-O. So when she tries to tuck in close, he doesn't push her away. Allows her to be near him, to try and comfort him, but he isn't sure it'll work.

Her pleading words nearly break his heart again. His own heart aches for both Modesty and Jael. How could he have both? Was that even an option? He doesn't answer, simply turns his chin away so he can stare at the fire. Lowering his paws, inhaling a deep breath, he lets the shudders roll through his body. Jael's body temperature is indeed comforting, but he won't admit it, not even to himself.

"Fine, do as you must," he finally says after a few beats of tense silence. Gil hates himself for acting this way to her, but he hopes she understands. They have to keep each other at a paw's distance if he ever hoped to even consider getting Modesty back.