[ The journey back this time is far less turbulent than before now that she had emptied what little there was in her stomach. With the contents of her stomach on the floor of the alleyway, her boots and Sylvain's pants, the gentle motion of Sylvain walking them home is soothing in a way. Her eyelids grow heavy as she quietly clings to him, the streets they pass by barely registering until they turn down the familiar ones that will lead them to the loft.
And as eager as she is to hop into the bath, another reluctance emerges: she didn't want him to be apart from her even if it was just to draw the bath. Her rational voice would protest, say that it's counterintuitive to have told him one thing but then want another. When he places her down and steadies her, she leans into his touch instinctively, the smell of him lingering against her clothing and her skin. Her lower lip juts out, as if readying a protest about how no, she doesn't want to wait.
Surely she can just hop in and that way he doesn't have to be far from her at all (never mind that the bath is literally so close she could reach out a hand and touch him if she really wanted to), but she nods instead, steadying herself by gripping the counter under her. ]
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And as eager as she is to hop into the bath, another reluctance emerges: she didn't want him to be apart from her even if it was just to draw the bath. Her rational voice would protest, say that it's counterintuitive to have told him one thing but then want another. When he places her down and steadies her, she leans into his touch instinctively, the smell of him lingering against her clothing and her skin. Her lower lip juts out, as if readying a protest about how no, she doesn't want to wait.
Surely she can just hop in and that way he doesn't have to be far from her at all (never mind that the bath is literally so close she could reach out a hand and touch him if she really wanted to), but she nods instead, steadying herself by gripping the counter under her. ]