[ She doesn't know if she likes this. Wants this. Even for no. Even for his voice staying, but with his own reasons. Even for her own opinion seconds ago. The one livid anger, and her own stupidity, and his arrogance, and over thirteen years couldn't put out. She doesn't know that she wants his voice to shift the way it just did. Or for it get quieter. She doesn't know if she wants this to become ... personal.
Like somehow it wasn't already. In the dark. Alone, but not alone. Together, but nowhere near each other.
A sliding slope, with too many things she didn't want to even think of. Maybe that's why it's almost too easy to let her first response just go: ]
no subject
Like somehow it wasn't already. In the dark.
Alone, but not alone. Together, but nowhere near each other.
A sliding slope, with too many things she didn't want to even think of.
Maybe that's why it's almost too easy to let her first response just go: ]
As long as we both know it's coming.