Sawtooth Spire unzureichend

once he too withdrew, she bit on her cheeks and flinched as if the guillotine that had cleaved their bond was a fleshly decollation just as well.
in manifold ways, it was. if she could only bear his touch, they could work towards the repair of their rupture, but she felt pins and needles on her heart like she was betraying her mother by accepting his touch when such intimate dotings had been strewn amidst myriad others.
within her, it ached so.
briefly, a sorrowing look arched over her brow. she wanted to whirl around and nuzzle into the darkley of his chest like she had so many times before.
before she'd been obliged to share his focus and love,
before she'd felt cast aside. the offscourings of his loins. if only wylla had held her tongue, told her a lie about why her father had so little time for her. would it had been enough? phaedra hesitated a moment, considering her urge ... 
"schatzi?" papa's voice broke the spell and she remembered herself with a flitter of her lashes. she turned her gaze to the purple florets and their chateaux as he stepped aside with a wordless invitation to take some of the violets home for her garden. "diese gehören den webern," she brought her eyes to meet mahler's, lips atremble as she offered a small, mannered smile. it did not reach her eyes.
how many had he regarded as schatzi today ... ? 
to his question, she fiddled with the grass against the pads of her paw. "ich kenne den rückweg. sdag, garden, 'member?" phaedra said, already putting some distance between them as she spoke.