Theea
Yla
I let out a short laugh. “You caught me,” I say, tilting my head with mock guilt. “I was just too jealous of you and Flora. Had to take you out of the picture.”
It’s clearly a joke—completely unserious—but there’s a flicker of something under it I don’t examine too closely. Not jealousy of them, exactly, but of what they have. That easy closeness. The kind of bond that feels lived-in and unshakeable. I haven’t had much of that outside my parents. But Sohalia makes it feel like maybe I could.
I glance over as she talks about Auden, her voice softening, drawing inward. There’s a stillness to the way she speaks—like she’s not just remembering, but carrying something. I don’t interrupt. Just listen.
“I get that,” I say when she finishes. “My parents were like that, too. Always thinking three steps ahead, but only when it came to me. Every move they made—every place we stayed, every risk we didn’t take—was because of me.”
I lean back, letting my head rest lightly against the wall beside hers.
“And yeah,” I add, a little more wryly, “I like to think my actions are good ones.” I hold up my hand, flexing my sore knuckle. “Well. Until I punch my roommate in the face, anyway.” I should really stop making jokes about it. Humor is just how I survive just about anything. Usually. I play with the ends of my hair and make myself move on.. “If you’re in the mood to share… was that what all the dramatic ex-avoiding at the BBQ was about?” I grin, tilting my head slightly. “Because that definitely had a story behind it.”I let out a short laugh. “You caught me,” I say, tilting my head with mock guilt. “I was just too jealous of you and Flora. Had to take you out of the picture.”
It’s clearly a joke—completely unserious—but there’s a flicker of something under it I don’t examine too closely. Not jealousy of them, exactly, but of what they have. That easy closeness. The kind of bond that feels lived-in and unshakeable. I haven’t had much of that outside my parents. But Sohalia makes it feel like maybe I could.
I glance over as she talks about Auden, her voice softening, drawing inward. There’s a stillness to the way she speaks—like she’s not just remembering, but carrying something. I don’t interrupt. Just listen.
“I get that,” I say when she finishes. “My parents were like that, too. Always thinking three steps ahead, but only when it came to me. Every move they made—every place we stayed, every risk we didn’t take—was because of me.”
I lean back, letting my head rest lightly against the wall beside hers.
“And yeah,” I add, a little more wryly, “I like to think my actions are good ones.” I hold up my hand, flexing my sore knuckle. “Well. Until I punch my roommate in the face, anyway.” I should really stop making jokes about it. Humor is just how I survive just about anything. Usually. I play with the ends of my hair and make myself move on.. “If you’re in the mood to share… was that what all the dramatic ex-avoiding at the BBQ was about?” I grin, tilting my head slightly. “Because that definitely had a story behind it.”
It’s clearly a joke—completely unserious—but there’s a flicker of something under it I don’t examine too closely. Not jealousy of them, exactly, but of what they have. That easy closeness. The kind of bond that feels lived-in and unshakeable. I haven’t had much of that outside my parents. But Sohalia makes it feel like maybe I could.
I glance over as she talks about Auden, her voice softening, drawing inward. There’s a stillness to the way she speaks—like she’s not just remembering, but carrying something. I don’t interrupt. Just listen.
“I get that,” I say when she finishes. “My parents were like that, too. Always thinking three steps ahead, but only when it came to me. Every move they made—every place we stayed, every risk we didn’t take—was because of me.”
I lean back, letting my head rest lightly against the wall beside hers.
“And yeah,” I add, a little more wryly, “I like to think my actions are good ones.” I hold up my hand, flexing my sore knuckle. “Well. Until I punch my roommate in the face, anyway.” I should really stop making jokes about it. Humor is just how I survive just about anything. Usually. I play with the ends of my hair and make myself move on.. “If you’re in the mood to share… was that what all the dramatic ex-avoiding at the BBQ was about?” I grin, tilting my head slightly. “Because that definitely had a story behind it.”I let out a short laugh. “You caught me,” I say, tilting my head with mock guilt. “I was just too jealous of you and Flora. Had to take you out of the picture.”
It’s clearly a joke—completely unserious—but there’s a flicker of something under it I don’t examine too closely. Not jealousy of them, exactly, but of what they have. That easy closeness. The kind of bond that feels lived-in and unshakeable. I haven’t had much of that outside my parents. But Sohalia makes it feel like maybe I could.
I glance over as she talks about Auden, her voice softening, drawing inward. There’s a stillness to the way she speaks—like she’s not just remembering, but carrying something. I don’t interrupt. Just listen.
“I get that,” I say when she finishes. “My parents were like that, too. Always thinking three steps ahead, but only when it came to me. Every move they made—every place we stayed, every risk we didn’t take—was because of me.”
I lean back, letting my head rest lightly against the wall beside hers.
“And yeah,” I add, a little more wryly, “I like to think my actions are good ones.” I hold up my hand, flexing my sore knuckle. “Well. Until I punch my roommate in the face, anyway.” I should really stop making jokes about it. Humor is just how I survive just about anything. Usually. I play with the ends of my hair and make myself move on.. “If you’re in the mood to share… was that what all the dramatic ex-avoiding at the BBQ was about?” I grin, tilting my head slightly. “Because that definitely had a story behind it.”
let go of your fears, and jump into the river
as the starlight bleeds out, let it be your new route
as the starlight bleeds out, let it be your new route
