[Oswald hangs on her every word, his gaze lingering on her, weary and unfocused, when she briefly looks away. With a sense of calm, of order restored settling over the manor, it feels like it was a long time ago when she spun on him with fury in her eyes, tearing him down for making peace with death. She saved him tonight. But her pulling the trigger on Rob hasn’t granted him a new lease on life. It's the responsibility he has to care for Alfred that will keep him going — his debt of gratitude to the man upstairs. And maybe, by the time Alfred is well again, weeks from now, and Oswald feels he has paid his dues, he will have found another reason to face the day. For now, he’d just have to take each one as it comes.
Her touch brings him back. He blinks, looking to her hand with a restless flicker of his eyelashes. Not offended, but unsure where the gesture is coming from.]
Thank you.
[He offers, quietly. His lips twitch, and he suddenly doesn’t know what to say without feeling like he might cry. Something he’s prepared to blame on his frazzled nerves, the exhaustion.]
no subject
Her touch brings him back. He blinks, looking to her hand with a restless flicker of his eyelashes. Not offended, but unsure where the gesture is coming from.]
Thank you.
[He offers, quietly. His lips twitch, and he suddenly doesn’t know what to say without feeling like he might cry. Something he’s prepared to blame on his frazzled nerves, the exhaustion.]
For taking care of him.