Overture Downs I told you a lie, désolé, mon amour

when was the last time someone had cared for her like this?

her mouth closed and she found no more words to be spoken. she watched as the woman drifted and used valuable knowledge to pluck things together. she was beautiful and smart. bracken felt every bit like some kind of woodland monster the more she admired this woman.

it was embarrassment, such a rare thing for her that she had not clocked it as such yet.

eyes of dark amber watched the salve be applied. she admired how it was gentle touches but firm enough to apply, to keep in place. the words soothed her as if she was but a babe. there were a million things she wished she was articulate enough to say.

instead it was a clumsy and half-mumbled — thank you — that escaped her at least.

she did not know that her embarrassment unfortunately read clear as day on her face. her avoidant gaze doing no such thing to help her.