[It's the trust they're building, small tentative steps. Never requiring anything from each other, but just- reciprocal. You showed me, so I'll show you. Ellie's expression smooths out as she focuses on the music, on the steadiness of Lance's voice. She turns to him, working herself back to full focus, watching his profile in the semi-darkness, lit by the soft blue glow.
Acknowledge. Keep moving. Yes, the ghosts are there, but they can't stop them. It's something she had to learn, even if sometimes it's felt like she's kept herself moving out of pure spite.
She puts it together. Broken leg, throat trauma. Other injuries. A hesitation to put weight on something that still hurt. She lets her gaze drop to the curve of his hands, and nods.]
... it fucking sucks. Being hurt in a way that-
[Ellie gestures, with her hand with the prosthetic fingers, holding it out. He remembers, she knows he does. He also knows that she plays the guitar.]
no subject
Acknowledge. Keep moving. Yes, the ghosts are there, but they can't stop them. It's something she had to learn, even if sometimes it's felt like she's kept herself moving out of pure spite.
She puts it together. Broken leg, throat trauma. Other injuries. A hesitation to put weight on something that still hurt. She lets her gaze drop to the curve of his hands, and nods.]
... it fucking sucks. Being hurt in a way that-
[Ellie gestures, with her hand with the prosthetic fingers, holding it out. He remembers, she knows he does. He also knows that she plays the guitar.]
Music's like, a part of you. Obviously.
[As if his powers didn't spell that out.]