[ At first, Abigail freezes up. She's so unused to being touched at all any more, let alone so tenderly, and it's difficult to tell herself that she deserves it. Then, for the first time since the police had stormed their house and her father had slit her throat, she lets herself drop the defenses she's built up around herself, allowing herself the indulgence of being vulnerable.
She presses her face into his chest, wrapping her arms around him and clinging, her fingers bunching into his uniform. She's been cast adrift for so long, foundering in the dark, and her relief at finding a harbour is almost palpable. ]
Thank you. You don't know what that means to me-- thank you.
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She presses her face into his chest, wrapping her arms around him and clinging, her fingers bunching into his uniform. She's been cast adrift for so long, foundering in the dark, and her relief at finding a harbour is almost palpable. ]
Thank you. You don't know what that means to me-- thank you.