Theea
A few gray hairs? My smile twists into something amused, eyes glimmering. “My apologies for aging you,” I say with a dip of my head.
He doesn’t accept it, what I’ve said, but it was genuine. I think of my mom being infected, and it makes me sick. I can’t help but wonder what I would choose to do with a rose, if she were. It doesn’t take me long to know the answer: I’d choose her. He doesn’t seem to think his efforts are worth anything, or even that he might need to have his suffering acknowledged. “You aren’t just walking in the woods,” I assure him with a sympathetic smile. “You’re hunting for a way to save someone you love.”
I just shrug at his thanks as I pass off the cloth. “It’s nothing, really.” I don’t mind helping—it’s why I struck out in the first place. Tired of hiding, tired of thinking only of ourselves. What else could mom expect, telling me all those stories of heroism?
He holds out his hand, then switches for the other, and I grin with a breath of a laugh. I take his hand with a good shake. “Jude. I’m Theea.” When I release his hand, I hook my thumbs into the straps of my bag, and I shake my head. “Not really from anywhere, no. Always been nomadic. Just stopping here on my way to find some family. What about you?”
He doesn’t accept it, what I’ve said, but it was genuine. I think of my mom being infected, and it makes me sick. I can’t help but wonder what I would choose to do with a rose, if she were. It doesn’t take me long to know the answer: I’d choose her. He doesn’t seem to think his efforts are worth anything, or even that he might need to have his suffering acknowledged. “You aren’t just walking in the woods,” I assure him with a sympathetic smile. “You’re hunting for a way to save someone you love.”
I just shrug at his thanks as I pass off the cloth. “It’s nothing, really.” I don’t mind helping—it’s why I struck out in the first place. Tired of hiding, tired of thinking only of ourselves. What else could mom expect, telling me all those stories of heroism?
He holds out his hand, then switches for the other, and I grin with a breath of a laugh. I take his hand with a good shake. “Jude. I’m Theea.” When I release his hand, I hook my thumbs into the straps of my bag, and I shake my head. “Not really from anywhere, no. Always been nomadic. Just stopping here on my way to find some family. What about you?”
there is defiance in being a d r e a m e r
