[She shakes her head, trying to say It's nothing but the words won't come out.
She doesn't know how to put any of it into words. Doesn't know whether she even should. But she's aching and in desperate need of some kind of comfort. Mutely she inches over and wraps her arms around Chekov, burying her head against his shoulder. She might have whispered I'm sorry]
no subject
She doesn't know how to put any of it into words. Doesn't know whether she even should. But she's aching and in desperate need of some kind of comfort. Mutely she inches over and wraps her arms around Chekov, burying her head against his shoulder. She might have whispered I'm sorry]