book 7: normalcy

Gilgamesh stills her concerns, and the girl is careful as she tucks back against his shoulder. The throbbing in the wounds, the pulled muscles, is eased by his careful touch. A dog in pain is a dog that bites, but for him? It's different. Jael is different, too, for him and for Modesty. They're different, well different, and here to take care of her.

As he speaks, she stills. Entirely stills, as if she's waiting to be woken back up. The cat surely knocked her out, it's her own overactive brain that's putting words in his mouth. A cruel dream, showing her the things she's longed for. As he speaks, as he gently clears the dirt and sand from the wound, as the adrenaline fades and she's left raw and hurting but whole in his grasp... no, it can't be a dream. Just as real as he's ever been, Gilgamesh is here. Relief flooding her system, though it has to contend with a million other things.

"I'm yours, both of yours," spoken like an oath. Jael's voice doesn't tremble, this time. "I don't want to be without you," she's gone a bit quieter than she means to. Wrapped up, close to them, it's the only place she's been safe. It's the only place she's been whole. To the two of them, she'll remain loyal. Loyal like a dog. Tone solemn, though she yields to his touch.

Her teeth are careful, grooming at a spot along his neck, an effort to self-sooth her trembling nerves. Before she can stop herself, the words come quietly. "I love you."

“Speech.”