Don't paint wonderful lies on me that wash away
Maea had no one else to turn to, so she kept hugging herself, staring bleakly out into the light of day as Loren laughed and then apologized. Really, what was there to be sorry for? She knew where his reaction came from and couldn't blame him for it, and was rather sorry for suggesting the theory in the first place.
Especially when he didn't let the subject drop.
There was a long silence. One heavy and filled with tumbling thoughts, as she tried to decide whether to tell him, whether he would judge her, whether it would change anything if anyone knew. Then she sighed. Bowed her head, to stare down at her feet, to the tips of worn shoes that poked out under the tattered hem of her skirts.
"Sunjata," she said.
Only his name. It was all the explanation Loren should need, to understand what a mess of a situation she had landed herself in.
Especially when he didn't let the subject drop.
There was a long silence. One heavy and filled with tumbling thoughts, as she tried to decide whether to tell him, whether he would judge her, whether it would change anything if anyone knew. Then she sighed. Bowed her head, to stare down at her feet, to the tips of worn shoes that poked out under the tattered hem of her skirts.
"Sunjata," she said.
Only his name. It was all the explanation Loren should need, to understand what a mess of a situation she had landed herself in.
