Somehow words, usually so easy for him, came out wrong when he was talking to Sarah. Already he'd hurt her more than once by saying the wrong thing, even when it was true. He didn't want to hurt her.
The past was behind him, tucked away as securely as Guinevere was cloistered in her abbey. Sarah was the present, the future. He pushed away the old memories and old losses. He closed the distance between them, letting his fingers run over the pale blue silk at the edge of one sleeve.
"You wear the dress of a royal, Sarah Jane. A gift from Arthur to his Guinevere."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-07-07 04:50 pm (UTC)The past was behind him, tucked away as securely as Guinevere was cloistered in her abbey. Sarah was the present, the future. He pushed away the old memories and old losses. He closed the distance between them, letting his fingers run over the pale blue silk at the edge of one sleeve.
"You wear the dress of a royal, Sarah Jane. A gift from Arthur to his Guinevere."