What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.
She just ignores his eye roll, the knife still in one hand, which she is vaguely tempted to hold to his damn throat right now. Why? Just for fun, and because he deserved it. Never mind the knife in his own hand, because she knows she can get the better of him.
Instead she returns to scribbling on the paper. Cause you like everything I do? Who gives a shit if I don’t like it.
Really, he should have expected that response from her. She does her thing, and though she always factors him in (even if he doesn’t believe that), his existence doesn’t stop her (well, mostly...there’s some things, but he doesn’t need to know). Still, the point is that he ought to do his thing. Regardless of what it is (well, mostly...but he probably won’t go murdering babies so it’s fine), she will love him anyway. Even if their paths diverge, they will always be siblings. It will always be them.
Instead she returns to scribbling on the paper. Cause you like everything I do? Who gives a shit if I don’t like it.
Really, he should have expected that response from her. She does her thing, and though she always factors him in (even if he doesn’t believe that), his existence doesn’t stop her (well, mostly...there’s some things, but he doesn’t need to know). Still, the point is that he ought to do his thing. Regardless of what it is (well, mostly...but he probably won’t go murdering babies so it’s fine), she will love him anyway. Even if their paths diverge, they will always be siblings. It will always be them.
Weaver
