There was no one left in the Complex that she trusted more than the man who was delicately holding her hands as they sat there, the silence between them only broken for a few words here and there. If Steve said it was fine, that it would be fine then maybe, just maybe, he was right. Morgana wished her visions, if they really were coming back could help her be sure that they wouldn't lose bits of their friendship because of this, but her "power" if you could call it that was never so kind.
God knows she didn't want this to make them dance around each other, their friendship slowly chipping and cracking as they lingered uncertainly instead of the easy confidence in each others company they had had before.
A smarter person might leave, give him some space, but even if she had wanted too, she doesn't want to pull her hands out of his. Instead, she turns slightly so they're not staring so intently at each other if they happen to look the same way, and she settles down beside him on the sofa again, her head just barely touching his shoulder and their hands still entwined.
What to say next is a lot harder than how to sit. The first thing that comes to mind is how much her father would have adored Steve, but she just kissed him so that seems like a bit much.
'I've changed my mind.' she says instead, her voice at lot easier than she still feels. 'You wouldn't make a good knight in Camelot, you're much to gallant.' also she strongly suspected Steve wouldn't be okay with them murdering men, women and children with little hesitation, but that was far less fun to talk about. 'Also, even you might be tempted to break Arthurs face. He has that effect on people.'
'I do wish you could meet Gwen though.' so it was a total subject change, sure, but lingering on the kiss wasn't getting them anywhere, Steve, even having kissed her back clearly wasn't inclined to go there. 'She's my maid... really my friend, since we were quite young. She's the blacksmiths daughter. We used to spar with each other after the boys decided we were too distracting and dainty.'
no subject
There was no one left in the Complex that she trusted more than the man who was delicately holding her hands as they sat there, the silence between them only broken for a few words here and there. If Steve said it was fine, that it would be fine then maybe, just maybe, he was right. Morgana wished her visions, if they really were coming back could help her be sure that they wouldn't lose bits of their friendship because of this, but her "power" if you could call it that was never so kind.
God knows she didn't want this to make them dance around each other, their friendship slowly chipping and cracking as they lingered uncertainly instead of the easy confidence in each others company they had had before.
A smarter person might leave, give him some space, but even if she had wanted too, she doesn't want to pull her hands out of his. Instead, she turns slightly so they're not staring so intently at each other if they happen to look the same way, and she settles down beside him on the sofa again, her head just barely touching his shoulder and their hands still entwined.
What to say next is a lot harder than how to sit. The first thing that comes to mind is how much her father would have adored Steve, but she just kissed him so that seems like a bit much.
'I've changed my mind.' she says instead, her voice at lot easier than she still feels. 'You wouldn't make a good knight in Camelot, you're much to gallant.' also she strongly suspected Steve wouldn't be okay with them murdering men, women and children with little hesitation, but that was far less fun to talk about. 'Also, even you might be tempted to break Arthurs face. He has that effect on people.'
'I do wish you could meet Gwen though.' so it was a total subject change, sure, but lingering on the kiss wasn't getting them anywhere, Steve, even having kissed her back clearly wasn't inclined to go there. 'She's my maid... really my friend, since we were quite young. She's the blacksmiths daughter. We used to spar with each other after the boys decided we were too distracting and dainty.'