By: Denise N. Rodier
A/N: a little take from a little spot in Flushed. Thanks to Alaidh for the quick beta for a quick ficlet. And thanks for all of the shepherds for welcoming the lost sheep back into the fold after a rough time.
Maybe it's your body's way of telling you to slow down.
Can't slow down can't move can't breathe can't stop can't get away can't stay can't trust can't care can't tell can't believe can't hope can't tell can't hide can't find can't...
A touch. A moment's connection. She feels it gently on her forehead, and barely manages to focus on it, in spite of the confused mess spiraling out of control in her head. As soon as it leaves, the chaos moves back in.
Maybe it's your body's way of telling you to slow down.
It's my responsibility. Shoot them.
Max!
Come in. It's all right. You'll be safe here.
Sometimes it seems like happened to someone else - like maybe it was a story I heard.
Put it down! Now!
We didn't get a chance to finish our conversation the other night.
Probably the most singularly beautiful face I've ever seen.
Everything happens the way it's supposed to.
I'm not going anywhere.
I'm not going anywhere.
I'm not going anywhere.
Maybe it's your body's way of telling you to slow down.
She felt the touch again. It was him. She took a deep, restless breath, and smelled him close by. That smell that, even in the short time they had been together, she had learned was uniquely him - the one that somehow she managed to carry with her even when she left him - even when she stayed away for months at a time. Logan was still with her. He hadn't gone anywhere.
She breathed again, deeply, and felt his touch still, could almost feel his frown even in her pseudo-sleep. Somewhere, deep in a place of emotion that she didn't quite identify, the feeling of wanting to reassure him bubbled to the surface. Wanting to touch him back, to clear the confused anguish from his green eyes that she had seen just before she had closed her own.
Maybe it's your body's way of telling you to slow down.
Yeah. Slow down. Step back. Step away. She breathed out the scent of him, and willed it to take its power elsewhere. She didn't need it, didn't need him. She only needed herself. She needed to slow down, regroup, redecide - redeploy her own emotions to a new direction, to a new focus.
Yeah. Slow down.