Nothing was ever certain, was it? No, Laura supposes not. The barge couldn't promise anyone, anything, just as she couldn't promise anyone, anything. Erik couldn't promise to see their plan through. Hancock couldn't promise he would stay after leaving. Sweeney couldn't be promised that he would ever see her again -- the woman whose name he still refuses to share. And although his words and his touch are meant to be reassuring, they are anything but.
She stares at her hand on his chest, realizing that his words were the nicest way he can think of to tell her that she's just not important enough. Everyone leaves eventually and he will too. But he can't know that she feels that way and she won't let him see the pain of her realizing how perfectly this mirrors that day when she came back to life and then had to grieve his loss on a bridge with what was left of him in a box.
Laura nods, schooling her expression into something totally and utterly believable.
"Okay," she gives him her best smile, appropriate, she thinks, for the conclusion of this talk. "I trust you."
no subject
She stares at her hand on his chest, realizing that his words were the nicest way he can think of to tell her that she's just not important enough. Everyone leaves eventually and he will too. But he can't know that she feels that way and she won't let him see the pain of her realizing how perfectly this mirrors that day when she came back to life and then had to grieve his loss on a bridge with what was left of him in a box.
Laura nods, schooling her expression into something totally and utterly believable.
"Okay," she gives him her best smile, appropriate, she thinks, for the conclusion of this talk. "I trust you."