You're so cold
but you feel alive
Some teacher, that wouldn't look at his student. Who let his own personal problems get in the way of teaching a lesson. Quite unproffessional, she thought and nocked the new arrow.
"It's quite simple," she said, actually deigning to reply. Draw, hold, aim, lose, miss. "You could have said, 'Hi Phoebe. I don't love you." Arrow up, bow taught, the grip pressing into the palm of her hand as she pulled the string tighter, a little further back than before.
"You could say, 'I don't want to be married to you, so I'm leaving now.' And then you could have walked away." Draw, aim, loose.
Hit.
The arrow thumped into the left shoulder of the dummy. It quivered for a moment, then grew quite still as Maea squinted at it, wondering what she had done differently this time. Her tone as she spoke suggested that he still hadn't reached her, had not penetrated the layers of her ice - it had thickened a bit, growing denser with each weak excuse he made.
"But you said nothing."
"It's quite simple," she said, actually deigning to reply. Draw, hold, aim, lose, miss. "You could have said, 'Hi Phoebe. I don't love you." Arrow up, bow taught, the grip pressing into the palm of her hand as she pulled the string tighter, a little further back than before.
"You could say, 'I don't want to be married to you, so I'm leaving now.' And then you could have walked away." Draw, aim, loose.
Hit.
The arrow thumped into the left shoulder of the dummy. It quivered for a moment, then grew quite still as Maea squinted at it, wondering what she had done differently this time. Her tone as she spoke suggested that he still hadn't reached her, had not penetrated the layers of her ice - it had thickened a bit, growing denser with each weak excuse he made.
"But you said nothing."
lay your hands on me
one last time
MAEA
