elizabeth isn’t quite sure what to expect in asking the other for such comfort, but what she gets is more painful than anticipated. donovan is a sore subject for her still, even a yearlater, and lips will part as the countess is rendered SPEECHLESS. her hands will squeeze the one of liz’s, and it’s all she can do to keep in control of herself, though ‘control’ is used sparingly.
❛ —— i have not. there is no one to compare.
❜ elizabeth has realized the greatness that donovan was to her, but such a thing had come too late. meeting her dearest friend’s gaze, her own sad and lost, the countess goes on.
❛ i try every single night, but i feel… nothing.
❜ the first few she’d taken to her room had ended up dead, but such a cycle quickly grew boring. she let’s them go now, but nothing is as fulfilling as donovan himself had been.
❛ what do i do?
❜ leaning towards the other, it’s obvious elizabeth is desperate for guidance.
❝ OH, SWEETHEART, ❞ leaves her lips in a whisper :silent sorrow expressed in blatant sympathy, tongue parting tiers with a hushed click. arms of lankstir to envelop the other in a warm embrace ––– but gesture falls short; uncertainty of comfort laces fingertips as they instead rest softly on the curve of elizabeth’s shoulder. grasp tightens briefly, gently, as hesitation melts away, & regard for her friend’s wellbeing cements in the forefront of her mind. ❝ ––– it’s best to let those things happen naturally ; you’ll find someone eventually. ❞ while knowledge of such an idea is not concrete, the words of reassurance enter the room with hopes of solacing, but do so quietly, dancing on cracking glass. ❝ in the meantime, what about other forms of companionship ? it’s never too late to mend old wounds ––– especially with eternity on our hands. ❞
to say the two have overcome many obstacles would be an understatement, but the fact that they’ve come out on top together says more than any negative gesture could. relieved when liz takes her hand, the countess gives it a gentle squeeze. ❛ you are as radiant as ever, if that helps any. ❜ a soft chuckle follows, the smile on elizabeth’s face one of few genuine ones in her long lifetime. admittedly, she’s only ever saved her authentic feelings for the woman before her. ❛ do you still feel things? — i haven’t been able to… not since i died. ❜ it’s something she’s only ever told james, but that had been because she’d just passed at that point. to tell liz means a lot to her, her expression even faltering to one of immense sadness.
concern, while it does lace a pristinely - made brow, attempts to conceal itself for the other’s sake. an occurrence where the countess seeks comfort from liz is one rarer than its opposite, with liz seeking out the countess for comfort, & she drives to do just that, without scaring the other away. so, she becomes the pillar of wisdom she’s now known to be, heart full with the intent to aid in anyway possible. the palm held in her grip is lightly squeezed, other hand coming to rest atop their embrace. ❛ –– you know, it might do you some good to throw yourself back out there. have you met anyone since… ? ❜ ( donovan’s name lingers on her tongue, but is not voiced )
❛ how long has it been?❜ the countess will inquire softly as she looks upon her one TRUE friend. she’s asking about her death, liz’s, a saddened look upon her face. though elizabeth was and is honored to have been the one to help the other transition ONE LAST TIME, it does not lift the sorrow that weighs heavy on her shoulders. emerald gaze taking liz in, the countess attempts a smile as she reaches out for the other’s hand to take into one of her own.
the countess’s extended grasp is given into easily, without the hesitation that previously laced fingers. it’s a small act of trust –– a quiet show of friendship: a hopeful prospect that did not stray far from liz’s mind after her death. it lingered, & though she has not yet had the courage to initiate the conversation, she cherishes the little time they spend together. ❛ oh, ❜ the noise slips out on the bough of an exhale, lips pursing into a small smile as she looks to the other, ❛ ––– a few weeks. it’s. . . different, but i’m getting used to it. ❜
