She wishes she could understand what he was saying, what he was feeling, but whether her own experience are so limited or her mind so uncreative, she finds herself stuck in the in-between. She crinkles her brow in concentration, a corner of her mouth pulling down in the corner, and she watches him steadily—unwilling to glance away when there is perhaps something to be learned in the studying.
“Hi, Lannister,” she greets him, knowing that such a thing is terribly too late in their interaction and yet offering it to him all the same. As his stormy eyes find her own of pale crushed gold, she remains still, mind spinning in a million directions as she tries to bring it under control. “A dream,” she echoes and cannot stop the part of her voice that is nearly wistful, floating on the edge of a thought.
The frown returns though when he mentions that he’s been stuck and she wishes that she could fix that for him—wishes that she could make that better. “Are you stuck now?” she asks softly, taking a step toward him and wondering if it’s a mistake. If he will simply flee. “I was,” she confirms, but her gaze slips from him and toward the moon above them, the frown less pronounced but altogether more sad.
“But I was never meant to be here. Not really.”
meet me where the falling stars live
@lannister