let the devil out

She can't stop shaking, tangled in tattered strings of adrenaline and fear and marrow-deep relief.

Mike is close and solid, so steady, and as she leans into him, a raw, near-silent sob bubbles from her throat.

She presses her bloodied face into his shoulder, swallowing back another soft, wounded sound.

He cups her jaws, his gloved hands gentle on her scraped and swollen skin.

She can feel his heartbeat against her chest, galloping alongside her own.

When his forehead meets hers, she closes her eyes, just listening to him breathe in the surrounding stillness.