Theea
maybe there's a way out of the cage where you live
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face when he says my name. Like it’s a little miracle he remembered me at all—especially with how chaotic that night was. I shift the fabric in my arms, careful not to drop anything, and scrunch my nose a bit. “Honestly? Mild. Thankfully. I’ve seen my mom with worse, and I didn’t exactly want to reenact her greatest hits.”
The laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. “And glitter? Ugh. It’s the most contagious disease at a party. I swear, it’s still in my clothes, and I’ve washed them twice.”
I follow his gaze toward the crafting tables, and when I see the little open space, it lights something up in me. I beam. “Yes, please. I’ve only ever patched holes or hemmed things—I’ve never actually made something. From scratch.” I adjust the bolts in my arms and give him a look, half-challenging, half-hopeful. “But I’m feeling brave.”
The laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. “And glitter? Ugh. It’s the most contagious disease at a party. I swear, it’s still in my clothes, and I’ve washed them twice.”
I follow his gaze toward the crafting tables, and when I see the little open space, it lights something up in me. I beam. “Yes, please. I’ve only ever patched holes or hemmed things—I’ve never actually made something. From scratch.” I adjust the bolts in my arms and give him a look, half-challenging, half-hopeful. “But I’m feeling brave.”
maybe one of these days you can let the light in
