[ She understands that more than she understands anything else about him. Maybe all the reasons and pieces don't line up in a cohesive pattern when she lays them flat and tries to lock them all together, but she doesn't need all the details to arrive at the conclusions that she has for a long time now. That he doesn't know how, entirely, to say what might be expected or just nice to hear in these scenarios doesn't matter. Claire expects to be thanked and expects him to apologize like she expects unprovoked cardiac arrest.
Both of her hands fold over the one of his that reaches out, thumb catching across a knuckle. It's a strange dichotomy sometimes, to know how acerbic and articulate he can be only to catch him in moments at a loss. If she thinks about it too much, it makes her sad to know that this is just a detour on the way back to a life that promises to be more of all the shitty things he's experienced here, with none of the injections of decency to break it up. It doesn't inspire pity or even sympathy, just a greater drive to make time worth experiencing more worthwhile, somehow. ]
That was pretty wild west of William, though. [ But there's a certain degree of fondness to be found there. ] Give me your other hand.
[ It's too difficult to comment on William, whom Severus feels torn in a dozen ways over. It was easier when he was only angry at him; Severus is good at being angry at people. He doesn't know what to do with this and doesn't want to think about it more right now.
So he gives her his other hand as requested, tangling fingers with hers. He's never experienced this sort of gentleness with anyone else. If someone is touching him it's to try and hit him. There were little exceptions, like Lucius catching him on the shoulder or back of his neck to lean in, but there was always something proprietary about it. Everything now is still a bit of a marvel. It might always be. ]
[ Expecting no comment in return, Claire spreads her fingers out on the opposite hand much the same way she had before. For now there might not be anything to say about William, despite her knowing exactly where she stands on his actions, and there might not be for a while, on Severus's end. Of course it's easier to just be mad at someone without stepping back to look at the scope of everything, but given the circumstances and the still healing radius of his eye and face, Claire doesn't prod it any further.
Rather, she bends her head and lets her knee push against his knee, and gets to work. ]
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Both of her hands fold over the one of his that reaches out, thumb catching across a knuckle. It's a strange dichotomy sometimes, to know how acerbic and articulate he can be only to catch him in moments at a loss. If she thinks about it too much, it makes her sad to know that this is just a detour on the way back to a life that promises to be more of all the shitty things he's experienced here, with none of the injections of decency to break it up. It doesn't inspire pity or even sympathy, just a greater drive to make time worth experiencing more worthwhile, somehow. ]
That was pretty wild west of William, though. [ But there's a certain degree of fondness to be found there. ] Give me your other hand.
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So he gives her his other hand as requested, tangling fingers with hers. He's never experienced this sort of gentleness with anyone else. If someone is touching him it's to try and hit him. There were little exceptions, like Lucius catching him on the shoulder or back of his neck to lean in, but there was always something proprietary about it. Everything now is still a bit of a marvel. It might always be. ]
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Rather, she bends her head and lets her knee push against his knee, and gets to work. ]