[ she goes still. or rather, her body stops moving, even though she doesn't tell it to, even though she howls for it to keep pulling her away from him so she can get her bearings and find some way to come out of this without dying or yielding. but her fingers just curl in grave dirt and no matter how much she wills it, the muscles of her thighs won't flex.
she coughs into the dirt, sweat-slicked hair tangled across her gaze and across her mouth. it is longer and shaggier than it has ever been, nearly long enough to touch her shoulders, long enough to graze the dirt even as her forearms are poised to lift her out of it — always poised, never lifting.
slowly, she turns her head, gazes over her shoulder. the one movement she can muster while he's the one in control of her body. ]
(cw: paralysis-ish, loss of autonomy)
she coughs into the dirt, sweat-slicked hair tangled across her gaze and across her mouth. it is longer and shaggier than it has ever been, nearly long enough to touch her shoulders, long enough to graze the dirt even as her forearms are poised to lift her out of it — always poised, never lifting.
slowly, she turns her head, gazes over her shoulder. the one movement she can muster while he's the one in control of her body. ]