(no subject)

[watchesthebeans]

[Exploring a shelf, among the knickknacks.]

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[watchesthebeans]

He shuts his eyes and holds on tight, feeling like he's about to be sick. He feels every tiny shift in the muscles of her hand, and each one seems to portend imminent death by either crushing or dropping. Why did he ever want to explore? He hadn't needed the new tools and odds and ends he'd hoped to find that badly. If he survives this, he tells himself, he's never going to take even the littlest risk again, it'll be all night borrowing and only the things he absolutely must have.

He's jarred from his thoughts by her admonition and her efforts to set him down. For a moment or two he clings to her fingers, unable to let go even with his feet on solid desk, but then he's left swaying gently in place. He stares up at her with a dazed expression, still feeling his lunch threatening to make a reappearance.

And then he turns and runs.