[She echoes him softly, liltingly with a tone in her voice that almost sounds like prayer, knowing just like he does that it's not, not yet. But there's hope here, too.
Finally, she draws back, feeling the brush of his hand as it slides from the centre of her back over one of the carved wings scrawled over her shoulderblade. She doesn't wince or anything, but she can't help shifting her shoulders a little involuntarily.]
spam;
[She echoes him softly, liltingly with a tone in her voice that almost sounds like prayer, knowing just like he does that it's not, not yet. But there's hope here, too.
Finally, she draws back, feeling the brush of his hand as it slides from the centre of her back over one of the carved wings scrawled over her shoulderblade. She doesn't wince or anything, but she can't help shifting her shoulders a little involuntarily.]