- chapter thirty-eight

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─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───

fade: chapter thirty-eight

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fade: chapter thirty-eight

─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───

IT HAPPENS SLOWLY, THEN ALL AT ONCE. First, it is her breathing that returns, a slow inhale followed by a quick one. Then it is her eyes. They open groggily before blinking a few times and they are wide open. Something doesn't feel quite right. Panicked, she tries to hoist herself up in Ben's hold, but he stops her.

"Careful," he says in a raspy whisper, a hand on her back to support her weight. "You're okay," he promises her, lovingly pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

She still struggles to find the right words, but she is quick to try and locate that feeling in the force she has felt for a while now, just to know her — their — child is alright. Closing her eyes in an effort to feel it, really feel it, she is relieved to find that she does. So relieved, in fact, that tears gather in the corners of her eyes.

  "Yeah, I am." She replies, a stifled whisper being all she can muster. Her hand that had fallen from his face, she places right back, gently rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone just looking at him with love and adoration.

         She still doesn't know what to say, she feels strange. But good. Just... unused to her body. Waking up from death is not just waking up, it is more like getting in your old pair of favorite pants; struggling to fit in at first and feel comfortable but after letting the fabric stretch properly around you, you are reminded of why they were your favorite in the first place. Florence does not feel at home in the body she finds herself in — her body. Stretching out each finger a few times, she begins to feel more at home.

        And of course, Ben holding her in his arms might be the most reassuring thing to her in this moment, knowing that despite all, she is, in fact, home. She is so utterly happy, tears flowing from her eyes and she cannot stop them. So much relief, such a weight having been lifted off her shoulders and the promise of an actual life — it makes her unable to not cry.

"It's over," he promises with smile, allowing tears to fall from his eyes. "We can go home now, Flo." He holds her against his chest, hugging her as if his life depended on it. She holds onto him, eyes wide and breathing still ragged. She doesn't ever want to let go.

She closes her eyes to hold in more tears, just so happy to hear those words. They can finally rest now, after so long, after so many years and so much struggle. She pushes herself up as much as her body will let her and places a kiss on his lips — the most passionate and wonderful kiss she has ever given. A kiss of celebration, relief and most importantly; love. She has never loved him as much as she does now. Her grandfather had been correct about that.

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