---

The laughter cut into her brain fog like a knife. Not just the sound of it shattering whatever reality she was floating through, but the sudden hyper awareness of it ricocheting off her own body. She felt- No. She shut it down. This couldn't be happening, this made no sense, this was illogical, this wasn't happening. She slammed her eyes shut. Why wasn't Porphyria getting up? She had to get up, she had to get up now or something bad would happen. She felt the sense of something ominous looming over her, not Porphyria, something beyond her. Or perhaps, in a way, it actually was her.

Nova opened her eyes again and of course Porphyria's bright hazel eyes were still boring into her. You already have, she accused, her voice small and frantic. If anything was drowning, this was drowning. She felt compelled to look her in the eyes but couldn't bear to hold her gaze and had to look away, only to feel the compulsion to look once again. When she did look, she felt certain Porphyria was staring straight into her soul, if she allowed her to look for too long she feared what she might see.

She shut her eyes once more and commanded her right hand to move. It felt clumsy and fuzzy around the edges like it had forgotten it was an arm, but it moved and her hand soon found Porphyria's waist. She just had to push her away now. Her hand didn't move. Would pushing her away hurt her feelings somehow? Common sense said that if you fall on someone that they would want you to get off of them as soon as possible, there was really no reason for Porphyria to be offended. Her hand still didn't move. It did seem intentional though, if Porphyria was intentionally staying put, then to push her away was by definition a rejection. While she couldn't fathom why she'd make such a choice, she still didn't want to risk pushing her away emotionally.

Nova opened her eyes and centered them on the middle of the other woman's forehead instead of her eyes. She'd look regretful and Porphyria would understand that when she pushed her away that she didn't mean to. Or rather that she did mean to push her away but that she didn't want to. No, she did want to, she just didn't want to be misunderstood as she did so. Yes. That was it. She was going to push her back now. Nova's grip on her waist tightened. Oh no. Oh no. Either she pushed her away now or she had to get her hand off and maybe Prophyria wouldn't have noticed and she'd just resign herself to whatever fate awaited her.

She hesitated, and she hesitated, and she hesitated. Finally her hand recoiled like it'd been bitten by a snake and flopped to the ground at her side again. Maybe Porphyria was wearing an incredibly thick corset and a surprising number of extra layers and hadn't even felt it? Her mind suddenly presented her with a memory of what Porphyria's waist had felt like, as if she could try to deduce how many layers she'd felt there. It was not helpful.

---

Outfit | Tag: Porphyria Dempsey | Notes: