#ivory paragon

[furiaae]

[ 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲 ] : sender spares receiver's life. o/

𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬.

@ivory-paragon

It was irrationally irritating how unreadable his face was at a time like this, at a time where she was at her weakest.

Asteria had expected visible smugness, maybe disgust. She'd even take glee if it meant she could judge his state of mind!! There was a vial of pure mako just out of reach and he graciously happened to nudge it towards her with his foot.

An act of pity.

Asteria was so focused on trying to get a read on him that she couldn't even pinpoint what she herself was feeling. The thought of feeling grateful to one Rufus Shinra felt wrong in every cell in her once artificial body, but maybe it just happened to be the correct word as she weakly popped open the vial and downed the mako in a shaky gulp.

It was always so bitter and it burned like fire and ice on the way down to the point where Asteria felt like she may melt and burn up at the same time.

"If this was how you lot planned on treating any other Cetra you came across, I'm for once glad they all have mostly died out.." Asteria rasped as she managed to sit up ever so slightly straighter and her gaze, faintly glowing in the dimmed lighting, moved up to meet his.

[fearlessmonk]

"How did we even end up in this mess?"

His question was a valid one; Tifa could feel the frustration welling in her chest. She pounded the door once more before turning back to Rufus with an exasperated sigh. Arms folded as her head tilted and she spoke to him again.

"That's what I want to know," she huffed. She had been separated from the party, thrown into the room. When she awoke, she was surprised to see him of all people. There was a tendency to keep a bit of nervous distance from the man.

"I'm surprised to see you, of all people." The monk commented. "Piss someone off, huh?"

[stingslikeabee]

@ivory-paragon . from here

The madame's replies were of the non-verbal kind - a soft press over his arm and a smile for Rufus, although it was an entirely genuine one rather than something done as part of their own little theatrics. But underneath it all, the woman's heart was agitated - it was a night of firsts for Melissa in many forms, including the next steps. While she was used to extracting information out of the average man who did not think honeygirls did much beyond spreading their legs and giggling at their jokes, their 'rat' was a different one.

It all pointed towards a reclusive soul, likely not too fond of socializing, and someone of high intelligence. Their act needed to be played perfectly or they risked losing track of that potential lead - with all the dire circumstances it entailed.

Once the couple left their box, Melissa made an effort to act like most of the girls around them did with their dates: enthusiastic about the performance of the first act, holding to the arm of their beau and not shying from the attention of their peers. It was a sea of differently colored dresses and jewelry on display and the Turks had outfitted the madame splendidly - while at the Honey Bee Inn she looked like the owner of the establishment, at the opera house she was easily lost among many other equally fashionable ladies.

Slowly, but steadily, they moved through the crowd while looking for the individual from earlier - and spotted him at the bar, waiting for his order. As the duo advanced, a server handed over a glass to their target - and judging by the coloration, one would imagine it to be wine. However, Melissa had read enough about the surroundings to know about their prized cherry productions, so potentially that could also be some local brandy.

Well - no matter; that glass was about to stain his white shirt in a couple of minutes.

Pulling some hair over a shoulder and ensuring the earpiece was well-hidden from view, Melissa politely detached herself from Rufus' arm with a cheerful exclamation about fetching them something to drink - and promptly made a beeline to their man, blaming their collision on a sudden twirl caused by her flamboyant excitement. The entire idea was for the madame to draw their little rat in - she had the unknown face and, for all they knew, the right gender for the experiments conducted in the past. The more the president remained in the background (as an observer), the better.

"I am so sorry, sir - please, allow me to help," and with that, Melissa's own performance started. The brunette looked genuinely mortified with the scene caused, then promptly started to go through her own purse for a handkerchief she could use to wipe the moisture away while apologizing to him. As the entire thing developed, the woman also tried to get the best look she could at the man...

...And it reminded her of the sketch that Shinra had managed to get done. It was a good match.

"It must have been the excitement - I was too eager to finally see a version of the Mythril Enchantress at the city where the play was created," Melissa carried on, talking in a way that was aimed to convey just how much she had been enjoying the opera - one of Kalm's creations inspired after the legend of an enchantress (or ghost) that had roamed the mythril mines nearby and which was featured in several accounts from former workers. The opera had fashioned it into something much more dramatic, as these often did... But if their suspect was one fond of the craft, perhaps talking about it would yield enough proof of his identity?

And maybe it had been luck (or just sheer preparation with the Turks), but it worked - the man's eyes moved from his shirt to Melissa, and he seemed oddly interested in the lady fussing with his clothing all of a sudden. Craning his head a bit, he asked:

"Is this your first time seeing this one, miss...?"

"Isabel Avelar," the madame replied easily enough, flashing a smile to the stranger and then stepping back to gauge the effectiveness of her attempt of cleaning him up from the brandy, "Yes, it is my first time. I adore the classics and I have seen too many adaptations of Loveless, but coming to Kalm for this local gem had been on my dream list for ages. My fiancé was kind enough to secure the best tickets... There is no best place to enjoy it but from a box and undisturbed by the chatter, wouldn't you agree?"

[bitterarcs]

What did Reno do this time to warrant such a punishment? The thing about Rufus ShinRa was he was able to deliver bullshit, and it still sounded like the truth, at least to the untrained ear. He knew fully that it was a punishment and nothing more, and that the fucking beast likely wanted to use Reno's ass as a chew toy. The was the thing about animals - they could sense which people hated them or loved them. Smelly, Jenova-forsaken flea bag. Reno only made eye contact with the President as his face was void of wrinkles of disgust; he did, however, look eerie with his stony expression. Fuck.

(  ❛  If it shits, I am not picking it up. Some poor sap can slip on it for all I care. ❜  )

"Take Dark Nation out for her daily walk, will you? She's restless... I believe she doesn't mind your company." In truth, she's only compliant with Rufus. A hard stare is given to the Turk by her.

She knows. @ivory-paragon         (   is this a love confession, rufus ?  )

[emily-lotus]

🌸  to  offer  my  muse  a  flower. :]

Emily was a bit shocked (okay really shocked), when Rufus presented her a flower. She didn't know him to do nice things for anyone outside of his Turks. So when he presented a flower, a real fresh one how could she say no? She accepted it and gave it a sniff, loving the fragrance.

"This is beautiful Rufus, thank you." And her cup of water was now a cup of water for the flower until she could put it into a vase back at her apartment.

@ivory-paragon

[ilbound]

@ivory-paragon has requested a story : ShinRa had fallen, but there were still those out there who did not want to leave the company's umbrella. The scientists searched high and low for any niche they could get themselves into. The flow of their life was deeply affected, and with it, desperation. Rufus had laid witness to such atrocities.

"Aren't you afraid?" He asked her one day. ".. Of someone wishing to get a hold of you for what you are?"

𝑼𝒏���𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

There should never be a question as to whether or not Rufus is welcome in her home.  Truth be told , Verona allows him to come and go as he pleases ( the door is oft’ unlocked for this reason ) .  As long as warning is given beforehand , the Chimera rarely holds complaint about the almost-constant flux of c o m p a n y that crosses her threshold ; Rufus , his Turks , and other faces she never thought to spare a second thought for— It suits , doesn’t it ?  She’s as good as PART OF THE FAMILY now , much as the others would like to contend the fact and denounce her presence ( that’s the funny thing about snakes , even if you did manage to kill this one , you’ll still have to deal with the bite & the venom ) .

It’s no surprise when Rufus is there sometime midday ( the particular reason for his coming is lost on her , regrettably ) .  Verona occupies their silence by playing the piano – this , one of the sparing things she INSISTED be brought along from her old life and verily , one of the very f e w things the Turks found the least bit tolerable about her.  Her playing pauses , however , allowing for the brief interlude of his question.  There’s a thoughtful silence that follows his words ‘fore she shrugs and continues the melody ( a rather melancholy tune , if ever there was one ) .  ❝ Why should I be afraid ? ❞  She asks over the swell of the chords , tipping her head to toss him one of her strange , mysterious smiles ; one of those that says he has to look deeper for the meaning behind what she’s alluding to.  ❝ I’ve dealt with the likes of them before , I can do so again. ❞  Neither needed to be reminded of her record back in the Labs ; the numerous devourings … the various acts of destruction ( there was good reason why she was set to be terminated ) .  ❝ Let them come , ❞ She says , lifting her chin with a HUMORLESS & EMPTY laugh ( not bitterness nor fear , but a hollowed-out despondence as though this seemed all too predictable ) , ❝ I can make quick work of them.  Getting rid of people is rather e a s y , as you might know. ❞

Her playing stops , her features softening into something … More s i n c e r e .  ❝ You ought to be careful , I could be vain enough to think you might w o r r y for me these days. ❞ Can’t help but tease him , can she ?  Not that it should matter , she knows he can take a few cheeky cuffs here and there.

[katana-otoko]

"Are the records that you derived from Gongaga correct?" He's not sure why lately his interests were laid upon that land.

"Those records are correct." Balto has no qualms with answering such a question concerning his past. However, he is surprised that someone who wasn't from Gongaga even knew about the village's existence. His expression subtly shown his surprise, if only for a moment. "Gongaga is extreme for a getaway, if that's in your plans."

[stingslikeabee]

"If I manage to barricade the clock tower, would you fancy a picnic?" By barricade, he meant his men warding off any that wanted to climb it. There was a lovely view of Midgar in the distance, nestled amongst the skyline of fading light.

unscripted asks . always accepting

Birds singing outside was not a sound that Melissa had been used to waking up to - there were not many animals that had resisted the harsh environment of Midgar, particularly the one created below plate and which was challenging enough to humans. Perhaps the presence of nature was one of the things that fascinated the madame the most about Kalm, more than seeing the sky for once (rather than just metal).

But the absence of troopers everywhere and the lack of checkpoints did provide more chances for the occasional surprise attack - no wonder the Turks were always close by, monitoring the pair from a certain distance but within reach. Despite Rufus not advertising his presence in town (which led to a surprising number of people ignoring him), he was still the individual with recognizable features, even with sunglasses... And there were those who still resented Shinra following the end of the war with Junon.

The last attempt barely qualified as one - it was clumsy executed and subdued before it could create any scandal, but the assailant did injure Melissa in the process (arguably by accident). Her hand had been properly bandaged and the best doctor in town called over - and the woman was the first one to say it had been nothing, unlikely to scar and not something worth of returning to Midgar.

It was clear that she wanted to stay - the caged bird she had been longed for the fresh air and the picturesque landscapes; a minor scratch was a non-issue.

Melissa was indulged after a compromise - the Turks would discreetly investigate to ensure nothing else would blindside them if the madame agreed to stay in her suite while they worked. All that time, however, was spent by the window - looking at the feathery friends outside who chirped happily across the branches of a tree at window level. The distraction was so powerful that Melissa failed to notice Rufus' presence until he was close to her, having entered her room at some point.

His offer caught the inn owner by surprise - it was... Very thoughtful of him. They hadn't yet been to the tower, given the increased chances of his identity being exposed and the large number of fans that would likely swarm him, and the madame had assumed nothing of the sort was on the table anymore given the recent events. That he was suggesting one of the things she wanted to do the most - as any other tourist did - and ensuring safety measures to make it happen was...

...Generous, surely. Kind, maybe? At any rate, his attitude once again contrasted heavily to the prior bias and it stunned the brunette into silence, enough for a light smile to appear on the president's features. Shaking her head and regaining movement, Melissa's own lips curved upwards in an appreciative gesture, emphasized by a determined nod of her head.

"I would. I imagine the tower is better suited than a heliport for a meal with a scenery - no need to chase after food being blown away," the madame commented with humor, the rooftop of Shinra Building being the only other place that had comparable qualities... But would never be good grounds for a picnic. Following that, Melissa took a step closer to Rufus, extending a hand as if a deal was to be sealed.

It didn't occur to her that it was the one with the white bandages - not until he accepted the handshake but allowed a thumb to brush over the rough tissue keeping Melissa protected. Once more, she blinked - and then turned their linked hands into something less professional and more personal by covering the president's one with her unscathed palm, the arrangement resembling more of a promise between a couple.

"But I have one condition - could we please get the food ourselves from the market? Assuming Tseng allows us to do it, of course," the addition came automatically - the Turks were practically the woman's shadow too as long as that collaboration endured, "They are famous for cherries and they are your favorites, after all. I would love to handpick them myself."

[bitterarcs]

Three hours of paperwork was two hours too much, two and a half, and if Reno was so bold enough — the entire three hours was entirely too grueling. Between treading neck deep in a body of blood or following up missions with the boredom of paperwork, Reno would certainly opt for the former. Hell, even broken bones were preferable over being stashed away like an office gremlin until eyes felt they would melt into the back of his head. While Elena complained a healthy amount, Reno took the cake and the toppings when it came to hating work . . or at least vocalizing his hatred. After five hours, there was a notable tension in his partner's massive shoulders. A break was required of some nature, but the bald man never really complained.

Perhaps being a stoic and quiet person was a prerequisite to excelling at the humdrum work; Reno knew first hand that all the desk jockeys in ShinRa were as boring as their work. The Turk used cigarette, drink, and piss breaks to alleviate the sleepy tension mounting in his mind. After the fourth hour, he decided to simply relax on the ebony leather sofa of their office, the one he shared with Rude and Elena. Why else was there a comfortable couch is no one was supposed to relax in it, and, yeah, drift off to sleep. He knew it was going to happen the moment he decided to sit on the piece of furniture and did not fight the appeal of a nap. Not long enough to accommodate the length of his body, Reno lied down with knees bent towards his waist and placed one of the pillows between his thighs for comfort.

It was not his intention to waste away the rest of the day and almost like a buzzer went off, Reno woke precisely forty minutes after dozing off. Turqouise eyes glazed over with sleepiness looked towards his partner's desk and found it void of that shiny bald head. The pillow rolled out from between his thighs and fell to the ground as he rolled around and half stretched like a merry cat. It took three seconds of looking at up at Rufus' face to really process what eyes were seeing. Rufus. The Boss. Reno shouldn't have been as startled as he felt. It was not unheard of for Rufus to visit their office, yet . . it had always felt like it his and Rude's ( not really Elena's ) private space.

It was stupid and silly considering anyone, especially the boss, could easily open the door and stroll inside unannounced. Grin which fell onto lips so naturally tugged on the edges of lips as he sat up with a jolt. Hey, boss — Rufus' body pivoted to deliver the slap to the back of his head before the words could travel from brain to mouth. Had it been Rude, he would have groaned dramatically and climbed onto his back to deliver a slap of his own. He could only stare for two seconds and then allow laughter to flutter past parted lips.

(  ❛  If I can't drink on the job, I should be able to take a nap. It helps me focus, boss. I swear. Now I'm all energized and ready . . to finish my report That slap might have killed some brain cells though.  ❜  )

Enthusiasm had died by the terminating sentence, but the grin remained more-or-less stable on lips. He ducked down to pick up the fallen pillow and tossed it on the sofa, then stood up straight and gave the President a reassuring thumb's up. The hell did Rufus do all day? Didn't the man get bored or antsy or tired?

  Smacks the back of his head. “Stop sleeping on the job.”  @ivory-paragon            (   is this a love confession, rufus ?  )

[umbral-stigmata-unbound]

Random Prompts | Always Open

@ivory-paragon asked: "Going into the holiday season, I'd like a full report on all the shenanigans you have in store for the company party." This year, he's determined to be prepared. // For Reno

Reno was relaxed, sprawled out on a break room sofa as if he owned it, and generally people acted like he did when he was around. He certainly had his claim over it. Even as Rufus made his demands, he tried at least for a few moments to act unfazed.

But a smug smirk teased the edge of his mouth.

"Shenanigans, sir? I'm a professional, working most of the holiday, gotta earn that holiday pay like a professional, yeah?" he reasoned.

Then he sat up, one leg curled up near his chest, and he leaned into his, quirking his head.

"I'll be sure to get you a report just in time, sir." he promised, the promise made with carefully chosen words. He would give a report just in time, but that didn't very well say he would give it in the time Rufus expected it...perhaps after the fun was to be had, to have a nice reminder of a good time.

Of course, if Rufus pushed further, he couldn't exactly avoid further orders. But Rufus knew what he had in Reno as an employee, in many ways....this was one of those things he was simply going to have to accept, or else enact more efficient ways to prevent that chaotic Turks fun.

"One teaser, though..."

"The themed costumes are gonna be even better than last year~."

[xkuja]

NY Sketches

Rufus for @ivory-paragon

[soldier-lodbrok]

@ivory-paragon

This floor had once been one of Glenn's faves. It was luxurious for anyone coming from teh slums like him. A floor just for "Recreational" purposes. A cafeteria, chairs around, potted plants lining the walls with dim cool lighting.

He had had wide eyes the first time he had been shown around here as new recruit. Now, he sat at the edge of it all and only had barely a glare for it. Nothing was right about this. It felt wrong. He felt out of place here. He didn't want to be here...

He wasn't currently allowed on the trainings floors. For "evaluation" reasons. He had had some sittings with people. Higher ups, speaking about the failed mission. Some scientists. Sure as fuck not proper doctors and if then they didn't actually care about his health. More about how his mood towards teh company was.

He had questioned the mission. he had disagreed with how it had happened. Asked too much, apparently.

He was on thin ice.

But in Glenn's mind Shinra was too. Looking out over the section of the city, how the Mako dyed everything green... it looked a lot like the Mako storm that had swallowed Rhadore.

All the people there. Rosen...

Screwing his eyes shut again, Glenn tried to breath in slowly.

He needed to think. He needed to do something. But what exactly...?

I can't stay here. Fuck this. Fuck Shinra. I have to-

Fooststeps approaching tore him out of his thoughts.

"Leave me the he-", he started, having not opened his eyes yet but when he did... Glenn immediately stopped his curse. The man in front of him wasn't some random worker or SOLDIER. No. Not at all. Clad completely in white with a pale face, cold eyes and just as bright hair... Rufus Shinra himself.

For a moment Glenn felt as if a prank was pulled on him, his eyes darting left and right. No way the Vice President had come for him. What the fuck.

He hesitated for a moment. Probably a moment too long. And Glenn didn't jump to his feet in an attempt to appear all submissive and like a good employee either, like most would do. Instead he mustered Rufus Shinra for another second, before getting up slowly and nodding towards the other man. No standing to attention, no salute. He didn't want to obey Shinra anymore, but Glenn knew he couldn't kick up too much fuss right now. Not while he was here.

"Vicepresident."

[thecloudstan]

also @ivory-paragon tries to be a sugar!supplier to cloud in the bee AU but cloud pulls a I'M A STRONG INDEPNEDENT BEE AND I DON'T NEED NO MULTI-MILLIONAIRE DEFACTO LEADER HAVING THAT MUCH CONTROL OVER MY LIFE.

( ru eventually wins. it's ru. ofc he does. )

This is literally what would happen though, I can’t honestly picture it going any other way 😂 But that’s why we love them in a way, I think. The natural friction despite core similarities. It’s intoxicating…

[emily-lotus]

@ivory-paragon from here

"He always copes me an attitude whenever you ask me to fetch him. He also likes to gloat about his work. Which I know I'm allowed to know but like, I don't need to hear about it after every job he finishes." She is basically saying he annoys her.

"So long as I can say I have permission to use a left hook on him then I'm good. Maybe just once will be enough." She would hope. She already has a handbook from HR specifically for Reno. She thought that was enough. But since working under Rufus, she's had to deal with the Turks more, and this included Reno. Rude and Tseng she got along with very well at least.

[sweettifalockhart-archived]

[ refill ] sender refills receiver's glass without asking :]

[ refill ] sender refills receiver's glass without asking

Doubt and suspicion linger in her mind, thriving from the tension that hangs in the air. Her body is tense, each fiber of her being ready to ignite. Negotiations. When all is said and done, when lives are stolen and generations scarred. That's when ShinRa wants to "talk."

She's been watching him as Barret speaks, perched on his pretentious throne built from the blood and bones of others. So generously has he offered them water, as if they were all somehow equals discussing some grand plan to advance humanity with mako. Tifa knows better than to drink it. The day she trusts ShinRa in any capacity would be the day she seals her fate.

Sephiroth. The name echoes through the cold room. Memories awaken, and predictions begin to form, born of her fears and anxieties. His presence has long been engraved to each of her senses, and she suddenly feels suffocated by fear. Restless fingers lift from her lap, and she almost instinctively drinks from the glass. By the time it greets the coaster again, the fighter almost freezes. It's as if she expects it to corrode her from within, to burn through her body and break every nerve. Her breath is caught in her throat, in fearful anticipation.

And that's when she sees him, leaning over with poise like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Cool water pours effortlessly from the carafe and calm eyes meet ruby irises, wide with fearful realisation. Is this an olive branch, or a declaration of war? Is he trying to make a point, knowing full well how she had avoided the drink moments prior?

@ivory-paragon

[stingslikeabee]

“I have changed over time. That’s what people do. People aren’t stagnant. We evolve in reaction to our pleasures and our pains.”

unscripted asks . always accepting

Ever since Melissa was but a child, she had dreamed about sunshine and the sea; perhaps it was because of the ever-looming plate structure and the suffocating notion a girl like herself felt when trapped under not only just steel and concrete, but the dispassion of an absent father or the iron-like rule of Corneo. The idea of the beach was a fantasy - very much like freedom.

As the fragile flower blossomed into the queen of a gilded cage, not much changed in relation to such ideals. Sure, she knew that getting to the coast was not as impossible as it had once been - but Melissa lacked the authorizations, the means to be extracted from the slums safely and to ensure that her girls would be well looked after if she somehow managed to get away. After all, what stopped Corneo from seizing control and harming the most precious things she had?

But nothing had prepared the madame for what life had in store - from the moment where she was forced to house an auction for Rufus Shinra to being a witness to how that same man personally destroyed a creation so vile that could have taken more innocent lives than they ever dreamed, Melissa had frankly gone through all the spectrum with the heir to an empire. For someone who supposedly was supportive of second chances and blank slates - or so every girl coming to the Honey Bee Inn could claim - the madame took her time to apply the same benefit to Rufus.

With Corneo no longer being a threat, Melissa did not need to physically remain at the inn at all times; in a long time since what felt forever - there was a time to step back, inhale deeply and relax. Next to Rufus Shinra, her authority was reduced to something symbolic only - if anything, it fell to him to protect his companion and that role reversal was strangely... Comforting.

Even more so when it came with a view, with the ocean waves moving back and forth as if nothing could disturb their gentle rhythm. Not the deranged plans of over-ambitious scientists or greedy politicians; even less so the twists and turns of people with a legacy attached to their name or those disposing of it altogether in view of the memories they carried.

It was Melissa's first time at Costa del Sol and it was hard for the madame to think of a moment where she had felt more alive - not even their little Kalm trips compared.

And it showed in how endlessly fascinated she looked - at the landscape, the beach resort facilities or the impossibly long days. It was pretty much like a dream while being real, even more so when she was able to shift into summer dresses instead of cocktail ones, to wear sunglasses for a change and appreciate the unique, salty scent of the ocean that nothing could describe except for firsthand experience.

"I never thought someone named Shinra would make one of my dreams come true," Melissa remarked with an amused edge to her voice, partially bent over the balcony and using a folded arm and open palm as the resting place for her head. It would be almost impossible to draw her attention from the scenery - but a chuckle from the man occupying a chair next to her did just that.

“I have changed over time. That’s what people do," Rufus replied calmly, eyes of icy blue looking warmer under the glow of sunset. Or perhaps that was just really a figment of Melissa's imagination, although the man's words were precisely proving her insistence on painting Shinras under a bad light to be widely incorrect, "People aren’t stagnant. We evolve in reaction to our pleasures and our pains.”

The brunette ended up turning to face him - ignoring all that held her attention to just gaze at Rufus with open wonder. A gentle provocation, an amused retort, a joke - many were the possibilities for Rufus' declaration, particularly after everything that had faced together; but for once, Melissa decided she did not care to further label or elaborate on that.

Whatever this was - it was good; she was going to embrace it.

"...That we do. I just never pictured you as some sort of wish-granter. Perhaps I should adjust my expectations accordingly," the madame chuckled, leaving the support of the balcony railings to approach the chair and lower herself to the his eye level. Rufus did not move a muscle in response; if anything, he only looked at her with interest in the next move of that dance.

"In that case, Rufus, I have been informed by the hotel staff that Costan Christmas is different. The eve of the 24th is what matters and they are preparing a feast for midnight. Since we are here..." the madame paused, smiling at him next - and just the type he had seen Melissa using on many others before; a curve of lips that was the predecessor to a plea (or an order) which she would not rest until it was fulfilled.

"I think it would be in poor taste for either of us to miss it, and I would hate to be all by myself downstairs," a slightly dramatic sigh followed, but Melissa's ask was genuine, "It's the season to be grateful for - and I am grateful to be here," the woman explained, a hand moving to find his - just enough for a light press there, as a physical affirmation of the words that followed.

"With you."