[ Used to be, she would get angry when he'd say things like that. How could he be thankful for something he couldn't understand; how could he possibly know what it felt like to be haunted by a ghost that lives in the same house, to be widowed by a man who still leaves and breathes and lies within arm's reach? How could he say that to her and mean it? And the answer was always the same, never satisfying: he couldn't.
(You've no bleedin' idea, that's what Natalia would say and then disappear into the bathroom and run the bath to scalding. Maybe break a mirror, maybe two, maybe a finger.)
But that was then, before the worst of it all, back when Iain could still find it in himself to gather her in his arms and kiss her hair and pretend. She doesn't even have that anymore, that pantomime of love, but she has learned not to devalue what sits in front of her. As whitewashed as his mind is, the man before her is more than just a body; he's Iain, even if he can't muster the thought on his own (she has to believe that, she has to). Natalia shrugs, the oversized collar of his shirt slipping to expose one of her shoulders. ] S'alright, sweets-- [ she still calls him that, she'll never stop. ] --nothin' Natalia can't shoulder.
[ In an attempt to jostle him out of his sullenness, she moves to pull one of his shirt's sleeves up her arm, exposing her bicep, which she flexes at him, a desperate little smile on her face. ] I'm all brawn an' no brains, tha's what they used t'say.
✘ AU
(You've no bleedin' idea, that's what Natalia would say and then disappear into the bathroom and run the bath to scalding. Maybe break a mirror, maybe two, maybe a finger.)
But that was then, before the worst of it all, back when Iain could still find it in himself to gather her in his arms and kiss her hair and pretend. She doesn't even have that anymore, that pantomime of love, but she has learned not to devalue what sits in front of her. As whitewashed as his mind is, the man before her is more than just a body; he's Iain, even if he can't muster the thought on his own (she has to believe that, she has to). Natalia shrugs, the oversized collar of his shirt slipping to expose one of her shoulders. ] S'alright, sweets-- [ she still calls him that, she'll never stop. ] --nothin' Natalia can't shoulder.
[ In an attempt to jostle him out of his sullenness, she moves to pull one of his shirt's sleeves up her arm, exposing her bicep, which she flexes at him, a desperate little smile on her face. ] I'm all brawn an' no brains, tha's what they used t'say.