[She can sense the storm roiling underneath that always steady demeanour of his, but she doesn't shy away from it. She never did, even then—she would instead take his hand and squeeze it without a word, just like she is now. Except his words have her stiffening, more of that confusion setting between her brow. He doesn't mean to sound accusatory, but she can't help feel just a bit defensive about it because—]
I never received any of those messages.
[The number of nights she spent wondering why he was so distant, why he was always quiet around her even when she did finally come for him felt endless at the time. So much that her mind had ended up spinning them into the poison that she kept on her tongue for all those years to follow.
She slides her arm out from around him and slowly sits up, but she remains at his side, looming over him.]
I always came...
[She would have flown down the halls if they could fit the span of her wings. So then why would he say such things?]
no subject
I never received any of those messages.
[The number of nights she spent wondering why he was so distant, why he was always quiet around her even when she did finally come for him felt endless at the time. So much that her mind had ended up spinning them into the poison that she kept on her tongue for all those years to follow.
She slides her arm out from around him and slowly sits up, but she remains at his side, looming over him.]
I always came...
[She would have flown down the halls if they could fit the span of her wings. So then why would he say such things?]