#corff’s rambles

[extravagantliar]

♟: Patching up a wound.

non sexual acts of intimacy  //  meme cache 

She’s seen him worse. She’s also seen him so much better, but with brick and mortar cascading from the sky he’s sure the laceration she’s tending to is the kindest thing that could have happened to him. He’s unnerved, because normally she’s alight with conversation ---- bubbling over like a tumble too small for its contents, sometimes she’s known to babble just because. He’s grown so used to this, that the methodical cleansing and setting of the wound is too much with just silence between the pair. 

“Are you alright?” 

She pours too much antiseptic on his hand, and it tears away from her. He has his answer in the silence, in the way she’s trying her hardest to take care of him. Of course, he’d be blind to the way her hands shook, the very way she was holding herself together while he was so self-absorbed in his own reflection, he had missed the tremors, the balling of her hands into fists as they gathered into her skirt. 

Shit ----- shit. Shit. 

The night before the gang ( which seemed so juvenile for the likes of them, however, it was the only true way he could describe the ragtag group that was Hawke’s midnight crew ) was to march upon the Gallows and for Hawke to make some sort of declaration to the city, but also to the Templars and the mages ---- Varric ( head of the Tethras household ---- and of sound mind and body ) had promised to try and return to the Hanged Man to see Door before he moved out once again.  

The antiseptic still lays forgotten, her hands are still balled into her skirt --- their sitting on the floor in the backroom of the Hanged Man, the bar is in shambles, Corff is missing ( or out searching for survivors in the haze ). An apology doesn’t cover what he feels is his carelessness. It doesn’t cover the emotions she must be feeling, how he’s feeling in this moment ( oh how he didn’t think he would make it out of that -- that he wouldn’t make it back to this point....home to her ). 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise how scared you were.” He’s only met with her hand on his face, thumb running over the curve of his cheek ( finally a smile tugging at her lips, thank the Maker ). 

She rambles, she wraps his wounds. They remain in the Hanged Man.