Work Text:
Goodbyes seemed never to be permanent; their paths would always cross once more.
Liara learned to trust this.
But she knows there will be a final time they lie here, like now: her fingers weaving through the hair Shepard grew for her, the scattered silvers flashing in the light amidst the waves of brown. Liara caresses her, but the worry remains.
How easy it is for her mind to wander into questions of "tomorrow" or "in years."
How easily the soft strands slip between her fingers…
Caught in tenuous repetition, like their bodies and their lives: entwine, entangle, fall away.