v.
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
His hand shakes around the hilt of his sword, breath coming in uneasy, adrenaline-laced wisps. Any closer and he would have—Kenshin squeezes his eyes shut and stifles out an apology, but the words feel garbled in his mouth like clumps of crumbling sand.
He expects her to run, expects her to shout, expects anything other than the gentle weight of her shawl draping across his lap and the gentle cadence of her words.
"Let me stay here a while." She says.
Kenshin clutches at the soft lilac fabric as if it is his only anchor to sanity, and breathes deeply.
If I had been carrying a sword…
He realizes his answer when he smells her perfume, and when she does not scream.