[ She waits. She waits. She waits. Her heart beating faster and slower in swings. Uncertain he'll answer. Uncertain she should be selfish enough to feel hurt, to feel like she deserves something, needs him to, doesn't want him to, does, for him, for her. It's not about her. None of this about her. It's about Luther. Whatever he needs. Whatever he wants. Even if that isn't her. Especially if it isn't now.
She has to try; let him know, she knows, she's here. He's not alone. It doesn't mean he does. Have to answer. Have to care.
She sits. Drinks her coffee. Watches the derelict park in this ever contentious city, where children aren't. Freezes against that overwhelming wave that catches like a rock in her throat, in her chest, strikes her eyes, to a stinging degree when a response even pops up, before opening it. It's only one word, and her heart aches even harder for it. For it not being the two words she expected. For the finite, heart stabbing, heartbreaking, honesty.
For having no clue how honest it might be. How deep and dark that tunnel. She doesn't know enough. Doesn't know anything. Enough to know nothing, enough to know there's so more. Maybe even knows too much already, in his opinion. But he answered. So she does, too. She started this. I'm sorry is the wrong words. Same with thank you. Same with I know. She grasps for something else after a few too long seconds. ]
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She has to try; let him know, she knows, she's here. He's not alone.
It doesn't mean he does. Have to answer. Have to care.
She sits. Drinks her coffee. Watches the derelict park in this ever contentious city, where children aren't. Freezes against that overwhelming wave that catches like a rock in her throat, in her chest, strikes her eyes, to a stinging degree when a response even pops up, before opening it. It's only one word, and her heart aches even harder for it. For it not being the two words she expected. For the finite, heart stabbing, heartbreaking, honesty.
For having no clue how honest it might be. How deep and dark that tunnel. She doesn't know enough. Doesn't know anything. Enough to know nothing, enough to know there's so more. Maybe even knows too much already, in his opinion. But he answered. So she does, too. She started this. I'm sorry is the wrong words. Same with thank you. Same with I know. She grasps for something else after a few too long seconds. ]
Is there anything you need?