book 7: normalcy

Watching Gilgamesh take the cat on-- it's like a car crash. Jael doesn't want to look, but she can't look away. Gruesome as it is, but he has things under control. He always has things under control-- she relies on him for it. Fuck, she depends on him in more ways than he can know. Still, watching him bleed on her behalf? Her stomach lurches and churns, heart pounding in her chest.

Even as the cat tries to break from him, Gilgamesh doesn't let it go. Doesn't let it go, not until it's dead, a ragdoll cast into the sand. Jael tries to stagger to her feet, tipping over once more. The cat outweighed her by a large margin, her hip sprained in the process. Nowhere near as bad as the first night. No, the girl isn't on death's door this time.

His body wrapped around hers, and Jael is quick to yield to his touch. Concern shining in her opal eyes, her head lifts. Her muzzle against his face, and then into his neck. "I'm okay, I'm okay," words soft, hushed. She wouldn't give heed to her aching muscles and rended flesh, not yet. "You're bleeding-- you're hurt too, let me see," Jael's voice is shaky, the girl is on the verge of tears. Pressing close to him, still trembling, clinging for all she can. Both of them are a raw nerve. With all that's been going on, it's hard not to feel so raw.

Certainty is a hot commodity around here. All Jael can be certain of, in this moment, is that she can't and won't be ripped from him. She needs Gilgamesh, more than she can find the words to say.

“Speech.”