But the moment he said those last few words, the warmth in Primrose's chest faded. Something tightened inside her, and the comfort she had just begun to feel slipped through her fingers like sand.
She lowered her head, unable to meet his eyes, and whispered, "Can we … not talk about that for a while?"
Edmund's eyes widened slightly as he realized he had accidentally touched a wound that hasn't healed yet. [She just came out of her room for the first time in days… and I've already made her remember something so painful?]
[I'm such an idiot!] He mentally scolded himself. [I should've stitched my mouth shut if I can't control my words around her.]
"I'm sorry," Edmund said, lowering his head. "I shouldn't have brought that up in the first place."
To his surprise, Primrose reached for his arm. It was the first time she had touched him in days. She didn't touch his skin directly, but it was still something, and it startled him in the best way.
