[the peal of her laughter's a little too loud, a little too stuffed up, but it's all she can manage with a drippy nose and increasingly leaky eyes. uraraka releases her grip on him with one last squeeze, and then relocates her hands so that the heels of her palms are pressed air-tight into her eyes. geez, and she'd been doing such a good job, too. keeping everything—her fear, her doubt, the slow-coming realization that home is farther away than she can possibly fathom—all nicely sealed out.
but that's the thing about deku. even when he isn't trying to, he penetrates through whatever barriers and defenses anyone's tossed together, forcing every ugly, hidden emotion to the surface until it overtakes them. until it makes them want to come up for air.]
Of course. [it's quiet, quiet enough that deku might not catch it if he's not listening closely. with a sniff, she removes her hands to reveal the red rims of her eyes, swollen and still slick with unshed tears.] We're going to be okay here. So long as we keep supporting each other.
no subject
but that's the thing about deku. even when he isn't trying to, he penetrates through whatever barriers and defenses anyone's tossed together, forcing every ugly, hidden emotion to the surface until it overtakes them. until it makes them want to come up for air.]
Of course. [it's quiet, quiet enough that deku might not catch it if he's not listening closely. with a sniff, she removes her hands to reveal the red rims of her eyes, swollen and still slick with unshed tears.] We're going to be okay here. So long as we keep supporting each other.