[ She opens her eyes with a gasp and sees-- shades of blue. Past midnight and dark within the room, it is only the teal blue light of her crystals illuminating the somber and cool blue of familiar eyes and hair. She blinks. She stares at--
Everything that she might see upon his face, everything she might discern. (Briefly, she wonders of this is the face with which he had passed from the world: youthful, serious, ...handsome.) Everything about him seems the same, except for the first few moments where he seems disoriented, his gaze unsharpened. Despite his confusion, she notes the severity of his expression remains, as if he is just as capable of striking out in this state as any other.
She blinks again.
Lying like this, she realizes... he is warm. Of course he is warm, he is alive right now. He must not be used to having a physical body, of having a presence that might interact with anything solid-- such as whatever it is that had caused him to fall (her hand still holding his had been the culprit, not that she is aware). Similarly, he must not be at all used to...
Injury.
Pyra remains silent, still. Her hand lifts to him, fingers dusting lightly just beneath the corner of his injured eye. Up close and with the shadows of the night accenting all the angles of his face, it appears far more ghastly than it does in the light. Her lips part, and her chest rises as she draws in a breath.
She cannot heal him, but her other can.
Her otherself will not, however, which only leaves Pyra lying beneath him in silent concern... ]
no subject
Everything that she might see upon his face, everything she might discern. (Briefly, she wonders of this is the face with which he had passed from the world: youthful, serious, ...handsome.) Everything about him seems the same, except for the first few moments where he seems disoriented, his gaze unsharpened. Despite his confusion, she notes the severity of his expression remains, as if he is just as capable of striking out in this state as any other.
She blinks again.
Lying like this, she realizes... he is warm. Of course he is warm, he is alive right now. He must not be used to having a physical body, of having a presence that might interact with anything solid-- such as whatever it is that had caused him to fall (her hand still holding his had been the culprit, not that she is aware). Similarly, he must not be at all used to...
Injury.
Pyra remains silent, still. Her hand lifts to him, fingers dusting lightly just beneath the corner of his injured eye. Up close and with the shadows of the night accenting all the angles of his face, it appears far more ghastly than it does in the light. Her lips part, and her chest rises as she draws in a breath.
She cannot heal him, but her other can.
Her otherself will not, however, which only leaves Pyra lying beneath him in silent concern... ]