Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
The woman had a way about her, that made you feel as though they had been friends for years. As though it was fine to say anything, confess your deepest, darkest secrets, weep or wail or bang at the table and all would be forgiven. It certainly tempted Maea. Not because she necessarily enjoyed talking about herself, but rather because she had a feeling that this person, out of everyone, might be able to tell her how to start fixing herself. Getting tired of my own words
"I'm sorry to hear about – " But she interrupted herself. A dervish of air blasted cold air along the floor, swirling dust like a small tornado. At a sound by her shoulder she snapped around in her chair, thinking someone had snuck up behind her, but there was no one. Only the door closing behind a customer as they exited the cafe. Goosebumps rose along her skin. Rubbing at her neck Maea suppressed a shudder, turning more slowly back to share a look of consternation with Elizabeth. "Did you... feel that?" It had been outside too, earlier. Not the same, but that sensation of being watched.
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
