Maeve
She's wearing his clothes again. Borrowed things that drown her small form, covering ugly purple bruises that are splashed across her ribs, mixing with the marks so affectionately left on her skin by his teeth. The sweater is warm. It keeps out the chill even as the borrow socks bunch around her ankles, unable to stay up no matter how she tugs them repeatedly. A pair of his boxers act as shorts for her, rolled at the waist until they're short tight enough to stay up on her hips. She hasn't been avoiding him or anyone really. Maeve's just trying to stay out of the way. Trying not to move too much. The pain flares occasionally, making her vision blur with tears as she refuses to take the pain killers given to her after they made her sick the first night. Instead the bottle is left discarded in Sunjata's room.
Maeve finds herself in what might be another office. There are bookshelves lining the wall and a plush leather reading chair situated near an empty fireplace. This is where she's curled up, hiding so no one can see her finally break down. With knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around the top and face pressed there she finally lets herself have a moment to feel her loss.
Maeve finds herself in what might be another office. There are bookshelves lining the wall and a plush leather reading chair situated near an empty fireplace. This is where she's curled up, hiding so no one can see her finally break down. With knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around the top and face pressed there she finally lets herself have a moment to feel her loss.
Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips
We should just kiss like real people do
We should just kiss like real people do
