windfall | unfortunately, like a fool, i said, "it's not like i want to let you go"

unfortunately, like a fool, i said, "it's not like i want to let you go"

( continued from here! )

[ Denji stares up Aki's way, visibly annoyed, as she brooks another crest of colorless smoke invading her senses, slender tendrils ghosting over their heads, nearly transparent in the lamplight. This nicotine-addicted slag. Always with the insults… It means kissing! She kissed them! What other meaning could make out have? Still, she roughly erases what characters she was writing (she'd forgotten midway what the stroke pattern to one kanji was), decorating her report in rubber shavings. ]

I mean, you saw Emi-chan's stuff. A bunch of her dresses and skirts looked kinda itchy, but she had some grown-up outfits in the very, very back!

[ Instead of writing what she took, her pencil draws a series of doodles across the page: some peanut snacks, a bottle of tea looted from the mini fridge, a vial that she kindly labels as pirfume, and then the garment bag. ]

So I took one, since I don't got a whole lotta those. [ Most of her closet is filled with clothes from the secondhand store… and some secondhand straight from Aki's own wardrobe. For example, the tanktop she's wearing under her blouse right now. ] It's gonna make my rack look suuuper sexy on me, and then guys will be linin' up outside our apartment to take me on dates to the zoo and all that!

[ No, Denji doesn't know what the proper attire is for a zoo date. ]

…'course I'm not gonna go, seeing as I'm already taken. But you get the idea. What'd you get?

[ If she's remembering correctly, Aki's hands didn't look as full as her own walking out of the dressing room. Did she not take anything and now she's regretting it? ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Denji scowls to start with, quick and knee-jerk, then seems to forcefully relax into a more neutral expression. At least Aki's comments aren't manifesting into outright scorn, isn't mounting into one of their usual brawls; she did just spend the evening fighting a devil, so she isn't exactly invigorated by the thought of barking up the wrong tree. Anyway, this sort of exchange between them isn't so unusual. She pushes herself up, leaving behind her room with mild curiosity. ]

Emi-chan?

[ There she is on TV, indeed. Her hair is dyed a warmer brown in this interview. Denji closes in, plunking herself down directly in front of the screen. She taps against the TV panel, increasing the volume as the host invites her to sing a song from what must have been her latest album at the time. ]

She looks happy.

[The closer Denji gets to the screen, the more little beads of annoyance gather in Aki's mind. She's going to blind herself, first, then - Doesn't she realize Aki was watching, too? When she starts increasing the volume, she finally leans forward to snag the back of her shirt, pulling her backward from the screen.]

You'll go blind sitting that close. Back up.

[Since she won't care about how her fingers are dirty or how she's impacting Aki's own viewing experience. She continues pulling her back until she's beside her.]

This was before that fiend showed up, so she's probably less stressed.

[As she begins singing the chorus from her latest song, Aki watches with dull attention. How anyone can be inspired by this kind of thing is beyond her. As it finally fades back to the repeated coverage of the fiend's killing and suppression by Public Safety, the same news clip she's seen a few times plays, of Emi thanking the hardworkers at Public Safety, her security team, yadda yadda - but "most importantly," her fans.]

[Aki rolls her eyes.]

Not like her fans kept her alive, though.

[ Denji grunts when her collar tightens against her throat and she's harshly separated from the screen, tugged back to a more reasonable width away. Her glare only lasts a second, flashing in confusion at Aki's words. ]

Whaddaya mean? They kept rooting for her. She was goin' through something sucky and they stilled believed she would come out on top… Ain't that what fans are s'posed to do?

[ And then the devil hunters hunt the devils. The concept that there are designated roles they all play — she always expected Aki would be a stickler for that kind of thing.

No longer worried that her housemate may try to do something as payback for their earlier skirmish, figuring Aki's let bygones begone or however that saying goes, and has no plans to lash out, ruck Denji's shirt up to reveal her own nothing-tits — she looks at her closely, back somewhat hunched. Doesn't try to put space between the two of them. ]

You… You're not drunk, are ya? I thought you didn't care about Emi-chan.

[What fans are supposed to do, huh...]

[Maybe. But Aki still doesn't like it. Public Safety gets lip service and her swooning fans get the real praise? It's so shallow. Aki lifts her beer to her lips and takes a long drink as Denji examines her, makes her guess about her attitude.]

I'm not drunk. This is only my second beer. [And it's true - She feels right as rain, sober as a judge... Or whatever the saying is.] It's not like I want recognition or for her to say our names. But she would be dead without you today.

[Sure, Aki could have killed the fiend, but it was Denji's quick thinking that sealed the deal. She tugs at her to sit down properly, to get out of her face.]

I don't get idols. That's all.

[ The second tug does the trick. Throws her slightly off-balance as she lands next to Aki, their shoulders bumping together, legs a hair away from touching. Quickly, Denji scoots out from her, brow creased in bewilderment at her insistence. Geez. ]

Idols… They're kinda like devils. The more popular they are, the stronger they get. If they aren't popular — if Emi-chan and Emi-chan's dad weren't popular, would she still be alive? [ Would she have been able to leverage her influence in the same fashion to prioritize her case with Public Safety? To borrow some of their strongest hunters just to take down a fiend with an obsession? ] So I guess she's gotta do all this stuff, make it 'bout the folks who just sat by and watched me be super cool, or else…

[ They'll leave Emi-chan. Forget her. The worst fate that can happen to both an idol and a devil from hell. ]

Don'tcha think Makima's basically an idol where we work? I mean, he's as cool and good-lookin' as one, and everyone's always like, "Ooh, Makima," when he's around.

[ Yes, she's including herself in that mix. Ooh, Mister Makima… ]

[It's so weird when Denji says something smart. Aki doesn't respond to her at all, unwilling to praise or otherwise comment on her apt comparison, only looking at her with a frown when she compares their boss to an idol. That, at least, she can outright reject.]

Idols don't do anything useful - Just like devils. [So there continues the comparison, she guesses.] Makima has saved countless people. I wouldn't put him in the same category as some... some pretty girl who sings well. [She's never heard him sing... He probably has a nice voice when singing. Would he ever consider going to karaoke?]

[ The screen shifts from Emi-chan's statement to the press to on-the-ground coverage from outside the concert venue. A news reporter has his mic raised to a couple holding hands, so it's probably a re-run of the previous real-time interview since most of the concertgoers should have already cleared by this hour.

"What was going through your head when you saw that a fiend had trespassed the stage? Why didn't you evacuate?"

"Listening to Emi-chan's music gave me courage and saved my life when I was going through a dark time," the woman answers without a single stutter. "Ever since, my husband and I have been fans. The least we could do was stay there and support her!"

…But Denji isn't listening to any of that. Instead, she's openly staring at Aki. ]

You thought she was pretty?

[Denji is such an awkward weirdo that any sort of staring or other strange behavior from her has long been disregarded - but this time, when she asks that and Aki looks at her, even she's a little unnerved by the way she's looking at her.]

You don't?

[...She's an idol, she wants to say - Anyone would think she's pretty. Like, of course she's pretty. You don't get to that point in fame without looks. Denji knows this, she's sure.]

I mean... Of course she is. Just look at her.

[Is Denji going to say something stupid about how she's not her type? Like she has room to be choosy.]

[ She doesn't bat an eye at the Emi-chan posing for pictures with fans, signing autographs, walking down plush carpets to some award ceremony. They spent more than enough time together these few weeks, so Denji knows she looks good off and on the stage. Every outfit hugs her right, doesn't sag or snag anywhere. Even without makeup on, when her freckles and acne are visible, she has the presence of a girl who belongs in the city. ]

But you're prettier? So I thought you'd have higher standards…

[ She says it blandly, as if it's not a real compliment because it's that obvious. Because, unlike the idol projected on the screen in front of them, she can imagine Aki living a life anywhere and still making it seem like it's the most important thing. Make it feel like she sees the purpose and the weight of whatever she's doing, and that it's really worth bearing. Make it beautiful.

Yeah, Aki could have a beautiful life anywhere. ]

Umm, am I pretty to you like Emi-chan, then?

[...She thinks Aki is prettier than an idol? Aki looks openly shocked when she says that, her eyebrows raised high especially when she asks that question.]

Like...

[Is Denji pretty like an idol? Absolutely not. She has her own kind of charm. A tomboyish girl with a dirty mouth despite how she can speak politely and properly when it benefits her. She's a gutter rat without any actual understanding of human society. But she thinks out for certain things that Aki simply wouldn't - making sure Meowy isn't eating too much table food, refusing to do things if it puts a woman in danger... Okay, maybe they're not exactly for noble reasons, but still.]

[It's almost impossible to answer that question honestly, considering how she's been all night about her alleged date. If she just told her, No, you look like a wet dog most of the time, would she react badly?]

[And why does Aki care that she might?]

You seriously think I'm prettier than her?

[So she dodges the question in favor of the first statement.]

I don't even wear make-up. [Or frilly dresses or whatever.]

[ Aki's evasion wouldn't normally be noteworthy enough to dent her notice, but that's not the case this time, solely because of her own delusion: she'd been expecting to hear surefire agreement. So when she doesn't, and when it occurs to her she isn't going to, Denji purses her lips before pulling her gaze back forward just in time to watch Emi-chan throw up a peace sign with a handsome fan.

Cameras flash. Her posture hunches. Elbow propped up by a knee, her cheek smushes to her palm. If Aki's not going to tell her what she wants to hear, she'll just supply her own answer, damn it. ]

So what? I basically didn't start wearing any 'til tonight and I'm still popular with the dudes.

[ Dudes that blow her up, blow her off, or make her regret kissing anything other than the side of her closed fist… But dudes, either way.

Has Aki ever had to deal with stuff like that?

Somehow, this is the thought that deepens Denji's scowl. ]

Eugh, you actin' all surprised is giving me the creeps! 'course, you're pretty. And I'm sure all sorts of guys have tried to get into your pants because of it. You don't gotta play dumb, y'know.

[Why does she always insist on things that are factually untrue...? The only dudes she's gotten close to are Power who tried to kill her once and that bomb guy who also tried to kill her once. What is her reasoning behind thinking she's popular with men??]

[But despite staring at her with a heavy frown, Aki finally turns her gaze away and back to the TV, trying to ignore the obvious change in Denji's demeanor. She's so annoying...]

I wouldn't call you "pretty."

[A common tactic: begin with an insult so the follow-up complement isn't as special.]

"Cute" - Sure, though.

[ …Okay. ]

You're drunk.

[ That's the second time she's accused Aki of intoxication, but what else is she supposed to say? What can Denji even get away with saying without revealing the complicated mix of emotions that illuminates her face in an overly bright red. The way her nose wrinkles, thankfully, just makes her seem irritated. ]

I still don't get it. What's the difference — between me and Emi-chan? You and me?

I'm not drunk.

[That gets snapped this time, Aki clearly annoyed by the repeated insistence. She's only had two beers, what kind of constitution does Denji think she has?! She leans back to look at her, frustration obvious as she keeps picking at this topic. What is up with her? Has no one ever called her cute in her life? Does she even recognize how annoying she is right now? The answer to both is probably a resounding No but even knowing that, Aki is getting sick of her bullshit.]

Cuteness is different, it's... It's more about... [Ugh, this is so stupid. She drags her eyes away from Denji, back to the screen. She's on stage now, a far shot as she does some kind of dance, but the music is covered by the news anchors talking.] Someone being pretty is conventionally attractive. Someone on a magazine, or whatever. But cuteness...

[She frowns. Taps the edge of her beer can, half empty. One and a half drinks, then.]

Cuteness, it's like... Haven't you ever heard anyone say that something's so cute, they want to gobble it up?

[She squeezes the can slightly, the aluminum creaking under her grip.]

You kind of want to bite it or squeeze it, because it's so cute... Not that you want to hurt it - But you need some kind of outlet for that. Someone being pretty, you don't feel that.

[And she takes a drink. Like that just so succinctly explained everything.]

What the — you wanna eat me?!

[ Perhaps Aki should choose her words more wisely next time, because Denji's face twists in distress, like the impact of her explanation has made a permanent fissure in her skull. It's not as if she doesn't know what cute things are, what it's like to find things cute and have these weird impulses associated with the feeling — Pochita's existence was basically that to Denji. So, yeah. That's all fine and dandy to her. The problem has to do with the lack of distinction — isn't this too similar to how someone would treat a kid's plush? A housepet? She's not imagining things here, right?

Well, either way, the inside of her senpai's mind sure is a scary place…

And yet, in spite of her knee-jerk impressions, skepticism over her supposed sobriety, and the gnawing sense she should be leaning away from the other women — or, at least, serving her a glass of tap water to balance out the alcohol — Denji continues prodding the bear. ]

…For the record, I'm not lettin' you beat me up or whatever it is you wanna do to me. And I'll let all the weird, not-drunk stuff you said slide if you just — just get into the nitty-gritty! Like, what about me's cute? So that I know what I needa fix or whatever.

[Ugh, she's so needy. And of course she immediately assumes Aki is being literal with the eating thing. Surely she understands the concept, right?! Aki wants to get up and go back to her room and ignore all of this, doesn't want to get into it, doesn't want to care but - but does she seriously not get it?! Is she this stupid...?]

You don't need to fix anything. Why would you need to fix it? Being cute is good - There's nothing to fix, you dumbass.

[Her temper is wearing thin, helped along by the rest of the beer. Something inside her tells her to crush the can and really give Denji the sign to get out of here before she says something actually stupid, but...]

...Your eyes, those are cute.

[She turns to look at her, still frowning, speaking like she's naming negatives instead of offering complements.]

You can get all wide-eyed sometimes, and that's cute. To some people. And your mannerisms - Some people would call those cute, too. The way you walk, or the way you move around. It's not pretty, but it's cute.

[She scoffs, as if suddenly realizing what she's saying. Why does she have to do this? It's not like she'll care about her opinions on this, anyway. Because Aki's opinion is, simply, that nothing needs fixing.]

It's not bad, to be cute instead of pretty. Some people prefer that.

[ Every bullet in Aki's armory of compliments bombards her like projectiles from a cannon. Her eyes bulge, fully round — of course, until Aki points out that's apparently a cute, charming (she never said that), and alluring (also, never came close to saying that) quality hers. Then, she squints them. Leaves her jaw dropped open, though, and it remains unhinged that way the entire time she's being told off, soft noises crackling from a soundbox that's usually so glib and unrestrained.

She is being told off, isn't she? At least, that's what she believes is happening here. Thinks. Can only assume. There's just, there's no way her hardass coworker would seriously care about her enough to pay that much attention to how she walks, or take record of all these details she, herself, has never thought twice about… Like, that'd be so weird.

So what kind of creep does that make Denji? For her ears to tingle like she just swallowed a whole bunch of those pea-like spices Aki sometimes uses when making curry, for her stomach to lurch in excitement and panic rolled into one bottomless pit, just from being yelled at. Ugh, she feels gross. Sticky, her whole chest gunked in a sweet residue. Like the warm current that seizes someone when they hear song on the radio they know they're going to put on loop for the next hour, the next day, the next rest of their lives.

So this is what an idol fan must feel like.

Suddenly, inexplicably, Denji fully turns her body toward her, close enough to smell the tang of cheap booze on her breath. She moves on all fours, pitching over Aki's legs, a hand braced fast against a squishy thigh so she doesn't have to worry about slamming into the table in the rush — ]

Actually.

[ There's a snap and hiss from the third beer can she opens. It's warm, probably gone flat from being out too long. She nudges it toward Aki. ]

I prefer it when you drink. It's cute. 'cause your face gets red like spicy ramen soup and — and your eyes look like you can barely make them stay open. [ Look! Denji knows how to pay compliments, too! ] So, um, you should keep sayin' nice stuff about me.

[The way Denji is staring at her is nervewracking. Like an animal that's about to attack, about to hiss and snarl and yowl at her for something or other. She's trying to be nice, here - Why is Denji scowling at her like that, her jaw dropped and eyes squinted like she's trying to find the most choice word to use to tell her off?]

[But that word never comes, since she's climbing over Aki instead. Aki leans back in shock, the crack of the beer can drawing her eyes before she remembers to look at the girl attacking her right now. Attacking her, she assumed, but no, she's just telling her...]

I'm not - I'm not even drunk right now...!

[Her face might be as red as spicy ramen, but it's certainly not (just) from beer. Seriously, what is going on with her tonight? She briefly looks at the beer, how Denji nudges it at her. Is her aim really just to get her to say nice things...? But why does she have to do that in this position?!]

Do you think telling me I look like a dope when drunk is a similar complement? You're such a brat... [She leans back a little further, dropping down onto her elbows to avoid being face-to-face with her.] Are you that desperate for someone to call you cute that you'll settle on...

[But they're close like this. A lot closer than usual. And Denji is right up against her, in her face, even as she's leaned back to try and avoid her heavy stare. Waiting. All she's missing is the wagging tail.]

...Your lips.

[And then there's a pause, like she's not sure what else to add to that.]

Those are cute, too.

[ Throughout the name-calling and degradation chucked her way, she re-seats herself. Presses apart Aki's legs to make room for her butt to wiggle and squish in, feet sliding widely outward on either side of Aki, thus drawing her knees into a little shrine for her thighs to meet. She only seems to acknowledge what she says at the very end, once she's comfortable and once Aki's done as requested — it's at that point, a pang of sweetness swells and swims deep in her belly, shooting up like a molten eruption to her cheeks.

Her lashes lower. She holds the beer can by the ridge between her knees, tapping the side against her leg, not careful at all how it swishes about, droplets wetting its body. ]

If you really think that…

[ She fiddles with the can again, twisting it round and round. She peers back up at Aki, repaying the intent in her gaze with her own. ]

D'zzat mean you like me?

[ The like between two girls versus that of a girl and a boy. That should look different, mean different things, lead to different outcomes. But it's weird, right now she can't help but think — that Aki's pink lips are way too shiny from taking her last sip earlier. She should probably wipe that off with something. ]

Even if I look like shit? And my face is yucky looking? Or my undies have holes in 'em, or if…

[ The list disintegrates in silence, not because she's run the gamut of what could be wrong with a half-devil being like her; there's simply too much. She thinks of what it was like, to stand on the moving car as Reze told her with the utmost sincerity that he liked her, and Aki growled at her to not to be so gullible. Don't believe the enemy. ]

You gotta kill me someday.

[Like her...?]

[As a human being - Maybe? Denji's kind of nasty and uncouth and annoying but it's not like she hates her. And it sure doesn't help when she starts listing her downsides, putting herself down like she usually does. It's weird, for someone so full of herself, that she's so content to repeat whatever cruelties others have told her. Aki pulls herself upright, reaching to take the can away from her - until she suddenly finishes with that line.]

Kill you?

[She pulls the can away and sets it on the table, setting her legs open on either side of her to allow Denji to sit between them. Is this about the "'til death do us part" thing Makima said awhile ago? Has she been thinking Aki is going to be the one to kill her if she steps out of line or something?]

I wasn't planning on it. You'll probably live a lot longer than I will, anyway.

[ Like still snow that hasn't before been tracked through, unfamiliar with what it hasn't been robbed of yet, Denji considers the remaining tenure to Aki's life with deathly blankness. How long has it been since she stood outside that hospital room? Last thought about what it'd feel like when Aki's neck, warm and pulsing with blood, finally hits the chopping block? They've known each other an extra few months since then; Aki's seen her cut her teeth into devil guts too many times to count, Denji's watched her burn through smoking alternatives after quitting cold turkey. And in that time…

Surely, something's changed. Must have if she's here sitting in the woman's lap, willingly. She just isn't certain if it matters. ]

Probably. [ Heels digging into the curve of Aki's hips, Denji drags herself forward, nearly putting them chest to chest, breath to breath. Has to tip her chin up to look at her, just like that time they were lost in the shafts of that stupid hotel. Just like it, but not quite there. They could be closer. ] You sure don't look that bothered by it.

[ One hand slowly sneaks up her side, rucks up Aki's shirt, the folds pressed into her armpit. Her palm grips against a clean line of slightly raise skin, the darkened scar meant for Denji — though, with her abilities, a thing like this never would have left a mark. ]

That's right, you didn't even look that scared when you got this. That was always weird to me.

[She's way too close. If the tables were turned, Denji would be scrambling backwards and yelling something about how this is too close. But Aki won't be so uncouth, so - lame.]

[At least, until her hand is skimming up the inside of her shirt and her brows raise as high as he hairline. She thinks she's going to go even farther for a moment, all the way up her top, but then she stops on the scar, still dark and thick with a keloid. She feels her hair stand on end at how - sensitive it is. Not the scar itself. That's long since healed. But the touch... Why is she touching her like this?]

Did you want me to look scared?

[It's not like Denji ever looks particularly scared during anything that happens to them, either. Though, Denji doesn't have as much to worry about. Still.]

I was afraid, then. But... [She sighs, pulling herself upright at last and setting her legs down. She pushes Denji back with the motion, trying to find a way to sit so she isn't half bent over, but if she's going to insist on this position, she won't dislodge her completely, pressing her legs between hers so that she can sit over her lap.] There. I wasn't afraid of dying, or anything. I was more worried about getting out of there - I wouldn't have let myself die to some stupid knife.

[Talk about a stupid way to go. She reaches up to raise her shirt a little more, letting her stomach show along with the thin, light scars that cover it in random places. Marks that are mostly healed, but still leftover from other fights. Fights where it wasn't about protecting someone, specifically, just herself.]

I've dealt with worse than some screaming guy waving around a knife.

I didn't want that…

[ But I just wanted to know when you decided you liked me 'nuff to keep me around for your Gun-hunting plans isn't something she can very well admit.

Denji starts to huff as her hands are forced to retract, but mention of Aki's realer concerns back then, her other scars, helps to fight her annoyance down and adjust to the new design of their limbs with little pushback, all things considered. Arms hugged around the underside of her legs, she leans to get a better look. In this case, "worse" looks like a whole constellation of impressions strewn across Aki's rib cage, canvasing her toned stomach. A few are paler, more faded, as if they could have been from a time beyond Aki's career as a devil hunter. But she knows in other places outside of her view, has seen flashes on her the woman's arms, down her muscled back, there are probably fresher ones, the skin angrily pulled tight and flush. Like it could burst red once more with the slightest puncture of even the dullest edge.

Her nails crescent into her thighs.

It doesn't make sense how much Denji wants to reach out again, rub her thumb against the softly textured outline of any one of them. Except unlike the mark she'd touched, none of these are hers to claim blame for. If she were in a museum or art gallery, she wouldn't exert half as much respect. ]

Ah, so, which one… was the worst?

[ Hurt the worst, healed the worst, whichever. She'll leave it up to Aki's interpretation. ]

The worst...?

[It's not like she keeps a catalogue of her scars. She's been lucky in some respects - She has no scars that are visible to most people, only herself when she bathes and a couple that are lower on her legs that are faintly visible if she wears a skirt or shorts. So Aki doesn't tend to think about them very often. Out of sight, out of mind. Being asked which one was the worst, even now... She isn't sure.]

...Well, maybe...

[Her hand reaches up, eyes raising to the ceiling with it. Pausing, maybe hesitating, before she lowers the collar of her shirt, tugging it downward so that Denji can see between her breasts without actually revealing them. There's only a small point there, a divot in her skin that's miscolored and darker than the surrounding vista.]

This was the one that scared me the most, when it happened - I thought I'd actually die. And it was just a house centipede fiend.

[But maybe because it was "just" a fiend, Aki had let her guard down. Allowed herself to be stabbed like that with one of its long arms. It's a little shameful to look back on, that it had gone through the one part of her uniform that isn't reinforced: the white shirt.]

It missed anything important, and it didn't even hurt that much. But it was probably the worst, I think.

[ From the jump, Denji doesn't realize what she's looking at. Her mouth broadens into a too cheeky smile, even as a flush ropes around her neck, probably about to say something dicey like, "You flashin' me again already?" Until she's hit with that backstory, and then her expression quickly dims with discomfort, mouth half-slack in her inability to react.

To mumble something other than: ] Oh…

[ She grimaces. She never would have guessed or been able to pick apart that prick dotting Aki's chest from the rest of the (admittedly, weirdly, pleasant to look at) scenery, either, nor imagine something so small able to incur the kind of fear that could single-handedly birth a devil. Or give strength to an existing one. Once upon a time, death used to be something that simply awaited her arrival. Doesn't matter if it was a car accident, a permanent plunge off a pier, or a sickness — it was a bridge to be crossed, a point to drop off from.

Now it's just a door with a hidden doorman that turns her away again and again.

But Denji thinks back on when she died that first time, that last real one. She remembers the surprise, how much it hurt. How much it didn't, her whole body supercharged with red hot energy. Running for her life, what was left of it — which, at that point, really only amounted to the small, injured dog hugged to her heart. Thinking that if she could make it to any exit, that would be enough. Maybe they would bleed out together. Maybe they would find safety. She didn't know what that looked like that, it wasn't something she could conjure in her dreams before, why would now be any different; she could only think that she wasn't ready to find out, either way. ]

I think I get it… Why it's the worst. 'cause you thought it'd be the one you wouldn't come back from. That would change everything, right?

[ Her chin wobbles against a kneecap, thinking. ]

Hey, can I touch it?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject