[ they are both helpless. they are all helpless to the fate that awaits them: he, rebekah, and freya. he looks in rebekah's eyes, certain and assuring and shadowed with that same fear. the same fear that took him thinking for a split moment that freya could be alone and abandoned. the same terror and despair he sees in the depths of his sister's gaze:
the panic.
he holds that stare, his lashes fluttering, his grip on her arm turning from urgency to clinging firmness. (they are afraid, but they are safe. they are here, and that is more and less and the same as what they had the moment before they arrived.)
with a sighed exhale, klaus wordlessly leans forward to open his lips over rebekah's offered wrist. he drinks and cradles that drink to his mouth. ]
no subject
the panic.
he holds that stare, his lashes fluttering, his grip on her arm turning from urgency to clinging firmness. (they are afraid, but they are safe. they are here, and that is more and less and the same as what they had the moment before they arrived.)
with a sighed exhale, klaus wordlessly leans forward to open his lips over rebekah's offered wrist. he drinks and cradles that drink to his mouth. ]