[She's about to argue that she's been dead a week and has technically done nothing but rest, but then she recalls what he'd said about her angry spirit and shuts up. Who knows what's really happened. All she knows now is that she feels completely drained.
Carefully, she stands up again and glances down at the flower arrangement once more.]
[His heart nearly leaps out of his chest when she takes his hand and he brings himself to his feet, following her lead as the two of them walk to her bedroom. His face is flushed as he keeps his own eyes on the floor. It's hard to believe asked such a thing from him, let alone took his hand in her own.]
[She's still flustered, but she's also still scared. Anxious. As much as she wants to be alone, she doesn't want to be alone yet.
She's completely silent as she walks him in, but as soon as they're inside of her room (with none of her flowers dead, as though she'd never left) she turns to him and demands:]
[He stares dumbly at her while he comprehends her command before turning bright red, slapping his hands over his face and nearly throwing himself into a corner of her room.]
[Well, this time she's more than happy with his theatrics because she's certain he won't even think about looking. She even smiles gently as she moves to the closet to find a nightgown and stands behind the door, quickly throwing off her shirt and slacks. She'll clean up later, for now all she wants is to get into bed.]
You can turn around now.
[She mutters as she pulls the covers back and smooths out the pillow.]
[He turns around, still pink, peeling his hands away from his face as he stares at her quietly. This isn't the first time he's seen her in her nightgown. After all, there was that one time he took care of her when she was fevered. Even so, out of politeness he keeps his gaze high and angled away.]
...Um, where shall you have me sit? Or would you rather I stand?
[Because he's fine with standing; he doesn't want to assume he can sit on the end or side of the bed and get yelled at for it.]
Of course. I could never forget the faces of my father and mother...especially when she's scolding. Save for holidays I do not get to see them often back home either...so while it is anything but ideal, I'm somewhat used to remembering them from memory, letters and photographs.
[She feels a little upset by the knowledge, but she knows there was no ill intent behind it. She's mostly just embarrassed to hear that so many people know now. The blanket is pulled up a little tighter around her chin.]
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[She sighs and puts her cup down again.]
If I ever dream of it again, promise me you won't watch.
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It's bad enough that I have to relive it, I don't want anyone else to be burdened because of it.
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I'm exhausted. Thank you...for helping me home and making tea, but I need to rest a while now.
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Carefully, she stands up again and glances down at the flower arrangement once more.]
Will you stay...until I fall asleep?
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She's completely silent as she walks him in, but as soon as they're inside of her room (with none of her flowers dead, as though she'd never left) she turns to him and demands:]
Cover your eyes so I can change.
[Don't you dare peek. B(]
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I-I WOULD NEVER DARE TO-!
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You can turn around now.
[She mutters as she pulls the covers back and smooths out the pillow.]
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...Um, where shall you have me sit? Or would you rather I stand?
[Because he's fine with standing; he doesn't want to assume he can sit on the end or side of the bed and get yelled at for it.]
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You can...sit...
[She gestures towards the foot of the bed.]
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Do you still remember your parents' faces? [She asks, quietly.] After all this time spent here away from them?
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I can't remember my older brother's face, but I remember his voice. He had blond hair like my mother, Fred and Elliot. Like yours.
[Her voice trails off as sleep starts to wash over her.]
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...Edward? Did you tell anyone else that I'd died?
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Lady Stark was especially saddened by your passing.
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[She feels a little upset by the knowledge, but she knows there was no ill intent behind it. She's mostly just embarrassed to hear that so many people know now. The blanket is pulled up a little tighter around her chin.]
...She's too young to feel so sad.
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