The subject shift was somewhat out of nowhere, but his mind's following a tangled skein of leaping from topic-to-topic. Her gratitude for him waiting by her side until she woke up. Her coming back. Hospitals.
What she came back from.
The scar has been covered up as best as possible, every time she's been out in the world here; makeup cleverly applied, masking herself from view. But here, at the end of a long day, it's more visible. And Luther knows that sensation when assessing the damage after a battle, the careful probing the edges of a wound, the ragged healed ridges of it. He unconsciously leans closer (Allison's like a wild animal showing its throat, a mark of vulnerability), and his free hand moves from his own body to hers, fingers splaying gently against her hand, a thumb against the soft skin of the scar.
Not the bloodied mess of bandages from that day. Not the ugly sight she woke up to. A month and a half healed now, but he still hasn't gotten to take too close a look at it; she hasn't let anyone close enough to.
no subject
What she came back from.
The scar has been covered up as best as possible, every time she's been out in the world here; makeup cleverly applied, masking herself from view. But here, at the end of a long day, it's more visible. And Luther knows that sensation when assessing the damage after a battle, the careful probing the edges of a wound, the ragged healed ridges of it. He unconsciously leans closer (Allison's like a wild animal showing its throat, a mark of vulnerability), and his free hand moves from his own body to hers, fingers splaying gently against her hand, a thumb against the soft skin of the scar.
Not the bloodied mess of bandages from that day. Not the ugly sight she woke up to. A month and a half healed now, but he still hasn't gotten to take too close a look at it; she hasn't let anyone close enough to.