[ Truly, no medusa has ever been so fearsome as the one before Roxas now, with the teary pink eyes and the disheveled fluffy hair and the occasional, hiccup-y sniffle that she really ought to have grown out of fifty or so years ago.
She appears to have gotten most of the panic out of her system, at least, her shoulders slumped with the kind of weariness that always accompanies the aftermath of worry and grief. Most importantly, he's okay (mostly) and the threat is gone (hopefully).
It's easier to nod now, to give him a tiny smile of her own, despite the tear-blotched countenance she's sporting. It's easier to let him go completely, and to link their pinkies together in a more pensive version of what they'd done twice before already. ]
... Yeah. And I promise I'll... do my best to help. Somehow.
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She appears to have gotten most of the panic out of her system, at least, her shoulders slumped with the kind of weariness that always accompanies the aftermath of worry and grief. Most importantly, he's okay (mostly) and the threat is gone (hopefully).
It's easier to nod now, to give him a tiny smile of her own, despite the tear-blotched countenance she's sporting. It's easier to let him go completely, and to link their pinkies together in a more pensive version of what they'd done twice before already. ]
... Yeah. And I promise I'll... do my best to help. Somehow.
[ He's her friend, after all. ]