[There are no muscles to tense when she touches him, and so she likely doesn't notice the brief moment of stillness that comes over him. The feeling of Fio's arm slipping through his is too light, too gentle to be anything dangerous, and yet it feels as though it were the light on the end of a long fuse. He can't trust himself to remain at peace with her light touch. She could move, she could do something that will trigger some fight-or-flight response he can't possibly explain to her --
But Fio's hold on him is as much a tether to this moment as Darcy's weight had been at the Chatterbox. For now, he is here and present, with the sun on him and Fio close at hand. While he doesn't reach out to grab her hand or really move much at all, he adjusts enough that she can comfortably hold on to him. Reciprocating feels like too big a step, just yet.]
I... am too. [Although he's speaking of a different return from his original resurrection.] I'm happier to be alive, and here. With you, and the rest of my friends.
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But Fio's hold on him is as much a tether to this moment as Darcy's weight had been at the Chatterbox. For now, he is here and present, with the sun on him and Fio close at hand. While he doesn't reach out to grab her hand or really move much at all, he adjusts enough that she can comfortably hold on to him. Reciprocating feels like too big a step, just yet.]
I... am too. [Although he's speaking of a different return from his original resurrection.] I'm happier to be alive, and here. With you, and the rest of my friends.