Without hesitation, of course. Anyone who'd harm a hair on your head would be suffering a fate worse than eternal servitude to me!
[She says that and it's hard to tell if she's being serious or not. Knowing Jacinthe? She probably is, at least.
But the rest of that sees Jacinthe's cheeks puff a bit.]
You truly do frustrate me sometimes, Corbeau...all of these good deeds that you do, and you're so quick to brush off appreciation for them.
[And maybe that's what makes her so impulsive. Maybe that's what makes her want him to know with certainty that he's appreciated, that he's cared for, that his deeds are something to be celebrated, and--
He'll likely notice something's off after a moment, when she lets go of his arm almost unconciously. It's without thinking that Jacinthe moves her face in close, pressing a small, gentle kiss to his cheek. It's an appreciation he can't run from, and something that is certainly deserved for his hard work, and...
...
Why...is her chest so tight, all of a sudden? Like she's done something wrong? She hasn't. She knows she hasn't.
[That gets a roll of his eyes even as she lets go of his arm, and he's half turning to properly respond when she moves and presses a kiss against his cheek. Corbeau freezes, eyes wide like he simply isn't comprehending for a moment.
In the time he's known her, Jacinthe has never been overly physically affectionate. Not with strangers, not with him, not with Lebanne, that he's seen anyway. So dismissing this as simply "Jacinthe being Jacinthe" doesn't make sense. So if it's not Jacinthe being Jacinthe, then does that mean—
No. No, it doesn't.
He exhales - a breath he didn't realize he was holding, that sounds more weary than he actually is. Maybe it could've been a laugh, if he was feeling at all humorous. But instead it's just a sound that isn't exactly the most pleased - because he still has to figure out what the hell he feels about it.
A smarter man would've just asked Jacinthe if there was any deeper meaning behind it. Regrettably, Corbeau doesn't think to use his words.]
Oh. Oh, she screwed up. She screwed up, she screwed up, she screwed up, she did something impulsive to her only friend and she screwed up, she screwed up--
Everything in Jacinthe seems to go blank when she sees her (is he still her dear friend if she did this? did she just--?) protector's eyes widen in such a manner and for a moment, she's not comprehending anything. It's as if her actions and these circumstances are so far, far away in this moment, as if she's staring through a nightmare that she'll certainly wake up from soon. Certainly, she's sure.
Why isn't she?
Why is she still in this reality, with a man she--]
I'm--sorry. I'm so--
[The words come out shaky, shaken, everything about her feels so far away as she practically jolts off of him in an instant, and...
Maybe it's the adrenaline in her that makes her run so easily, or maybe it's the sheer panic that's gone and taken over her mind, but she needs to get out of here. She needs to get out. She can't stay here, she can't stay here, she can't stay here.
Jacinthe all but flees after a moment unless Corbeau happens to have the foresight to stop her, bolting out with no intention of stopping.]
[For a brief moment, it's like the entire world has collectively taken and held a breath. Like everyone and everything is waiting on this moment, like maybe the earth's stopped turning.
And then Jacinthe starts apologizing and she's off like a shot despite her injury, and Corbeau calls out after her—]
Jacinthe—
[—but he doesn't follow. He can't leave Themida and the kids behind. And mistakenly, foolishly, he thinks that she just needs some time to calm down. That this will all be resolved the next chance they have to talk - because it isn't a big deal, right? Just a misunderstanding. They both need some time to figure out how to approach the matter, and maybe actually communicate about their feelings. If there are any. Hell, he doesn't know.
Maybe if he'd gone after her, things would've been different.]
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sranks2025-10-22 06:33 pm
no subject
[She says that and it's hard to tell if she's being serious or not. Knowing Jacinthe? She probably is, at least.
But the rest of that sees Jacinthe's cheeks puff a bit.]
You truly do frustrate me sometimes, Corbeau...all of these good deeds that you do, and you're so quick to brush off appreciation for them.
[And maybe that's what makes her so impulsive. Maybe that's what makes her want him to know with certainty that he's appreciated, that he's cared for, that his deeds are something to be celebrated, and--
He'll likely notice something's off after a moment, when she lets go of his arm almost unconciously. It's without thinking that Jacinthe moves her face in close, pressing a small, gentle kiss to his cheek. It's an appreciation he can't run from, and something that is certainly deserved for his hard work, and...
...
Why...is her chest so tight, all of a sudden? Like she's done something wrong? She hasn't. She knows she hasn't.
...Right?]
no subject
In the time he's known her, Jacinthe has never been overly physically affectionate. Not with strangers, not with him, not with Lebanne, that he's seen anyway. So dismissing this as simply "Jacinthe being Jacinthe" doesn't make sense. So if it's not Jacinthe being Jacinthe, then does that mean—
No. No, it doesn't.
He exhales - a breath he didn't realize he was holding, that sounds more weary than he actually is. Maybe it could've been a laugh, if he was feeling at all humorous. But instead it's just a sound that isn't exactly the most pleased - because he still has to figure out what the hell he feels about it.
A smarter man would've just asked Jacinthe if there was any deeper meaning behind it. Regrettably, Corbeau doesn't think to use his words.]
no subject
Oh. Oh, she screwed up. She screwed up, she screwed up, she screwed up, she did something impulsive to her only friend and she screwed up, she screwed up--
Everything in Jacinthe seems to go blank when she sees her (is he still her dear friend if she did this? did she just--?) protector's eyes widen in such a manner and for a moment, she's not comprehending anything. It's as if her actions and these circumstances are so far, far away in this moment, as if she's staring through a nightmare that she'll certainly wake up from soon. Certainly, she's sure.
Why isn't she?
Why is she still in this reality, with a man she--]
I'm--sorry. I'm so--
[The words come out shaky, shaken, everything about her feels so far away as she practically jolts off of him in an instant, and...
Maybe it's the adrenaline in her that makes her run so easily, or maybe it's the sheer panic that's gone and taken over her mind, but she needs to get out of here. She needs to get out. She can't stay here, she can't stay here, she can't stay here.
Jacinthe all but flees after a moment unless Corbeau happens to have the foresight to stop her, bolting out with no intention of stopping.]
no subject
And then Jacinthe starts apologizing and she's off like a shot despite her injury, and Corbeau calls out after her—]
Jacinthe—
[—but he doesn't follow. He can't leave Themida and the kids behind. And mistakenly, foolishly, he thinks that she just needs some time to calm down. That this will all be resolved the next chance they have to talk - because it isn't a big deal, right? Just a misunderstanding. They both need some time to figure out how to approach the matter, and maybe actually communicate about their feelings. If there are any. Hell, he doesn't know.
Maybe if he'd gone after her, things would've been different.]