Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
A bemused sort of expression flitted over her face. It seemed an age ago or more that she had done anything useful at all. "I'm happy to help," Maea responded, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. Getting tired of my own words
"I, uh - " she cleared her throat, rusty from not speaking for a while, "wanted to thank you. For your letters, and the offer... I'm sorry for not responding to the last one. I had some... some trouble."
If being shot to death by an acquaintance and resurrected by your sort of hero could be summed up as trouble. It sounded better than moaning about her personal woes at least.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
