mark never gets used to it. he never relaxes when cyn does this, his nerves pulled along the edge of a very thin razor every single time she goes under. he waits, though, holding vigil at her bedside during the aftermath. it's not their room, of course— mark would rather die than have anything like this disrupt the safety of their bedroom. the spare room is made up so she'll be comfortable. it's usually good like this.
it's different this time. it was a forceful thing, one that involved mark having to call outside sources (and god forbid he do yet another illegal exorcism). the bruises that litter his ribs are for another day. it's nothing cyn needs to worry about.
cyn is shackled to the bed, face pale and gaunt from the stress. yet mark waits, splitting focus between his notes and cyn sleeping. it's mostly the focus on her that keeps mark from actually reading, but he's fine. he'll give up anything so she's safe. mark catches the fluttering of her eyes, sitting up straighter to make sure cyn knows that he's there.
@runeread: ❛ I should be dead. Why am I still here? ❜
his jaw clenches. that's the 64-thousand-dollar question, isn't it? it's not enough to worry about her life, her well-being, if she thinks about her death constantly. instead of saying anything too bad, too incriminating right off the bat, he reaches to unlock one of her hands, bringing it up to his mouth so he can press a kiss to the top.
" you're too stubborn to die. you wouldn't leave me if you could help it. " it's an attempt to add levity. he knows they both need that. " and if y'did, you've already stated that you'd haunt me. " the corner of his mouth turns down into a frown for just a moment before he stands. it's gone as quickly as it appears. " i should ... get you loose so i can help you get cleaned up. "
