( wally squeezes her hand, soft yet sure, and suddenly, all she can feel is fear. it's all at once — a sharp swelling in her throat, the bitter taste of bile on her tongue, her stomach churning as her head begins to ache — and it leaves her quiet for a long moment, gaze kept helplessly on his as she tries without much success to swallow it all down.
together, he says, all quiet and sincere, tone dripping with something that feels dangerously like hope, and skye panics. it's not him. it's not wally's fault, not even a little — it's the ugly fact that skye, for all her life, has never quite managed to create together with anyone. foster home after foster home, job after job, city after city; never spending more than two years anywhere has left her skittish and unsure, unsteady on her feet even when wanting desperately to find roots somewhere.
she'd wound up crawling under shield's barriers looking for those roots. she'd been looking for answers to her own history, information redacted from other databases but promised to be there; she'd wound up an agent who caused disaster where she walked, losing the lives of good men in pursuit of her own foolhardy curiosity.
and now, after all that, she was here. standing in a park, hand in hand with a man who made her stomach twist in the best kind of way, being asked a question that ought to earn a giddy response. instead, it just makes her nervous — and when she finally manages to wet her lips and speak, the chuckle that escapes her lips is just that. nervous, a little terrified, but trying all the same. )
Yeah. ( she would like that. she doesn't think she has much hope at ever making this work, but does she want it? more than she's willing to admit. ) But maybe we should go on an actual date before we head to the courthouse? I have to at least give you a chance to back out once you realize what a disaster I am, right?
( there. an attempt at honesty, couched in poor attempts at humor, but something all the same. he deserves that, at least. )
no subject
( wally squeezes her hand, soft yet sure, and suddenly, all she can feel is fear. it's all at once — a sharp swelling in her throat, the bitter taste of bile on her tongue, her stomach churning as her head begins to ache — and it leaves her quiet for a long moment, gaze kept helplessly on his as she tries without much success to swallow it all down.
together, he says, all quiet and sincere, tone dripping with something that feels dangerously like hope, and skye panics. it's not him. it's not wally's fault, not even a little — it's the ugly fact that skye, for all her life, has never quite managed to create together with anyone. foster home after foster home, job after job, city after city; never spending more than two years anywhere has left her skittish and unsure, unsteady on her feet even when wanting desperately to find roots somewhere.
she'd wound up crawling under shield's barriers looking for those roots. she'd been looking for answers to her own history, information redacted from other databases but promised to be there; she'd wound up an agent who caused disaster where she walked, losing the lives of good men in pursuit of her own foolhardy curiosity.
and now, after all that, she was here. standing in a park, hand in hand with a man who made her stomach twist in the best kind of way, being asked a question that ought to earn a giddy response. instead, it just makes her nervous — and when she finally manages to wet her lips and speak, the chuckle that escapes her lips is just that. nervous, a little terrified, but trying all the same. )
Yeah. ( she would like that. she doesn't think she has much hope at ever making this work, but does she want it? more than she's willing to admit. ) But maybe we should go on an actual date before we head to the courthouse? I have to at least give you a chance to back out once you realize what a disaster I am, right?
( there. an attempt at honesty, couched in poor attempts at humor, but something all the same. he deserves that, at least. )