Maeve
She waits for him to do something. To push her away. To tell her to get out. Except he doesn't. Instead he's cupping her cheeks, brushing away the tears that stream hotly from the corners of her eyes. Maeve isn't even upset with him. She's upset with herself. Maeve had wanted his honestly and she's grateful for it, but she can't help feeing like she shouldn't have any of this. His kindness or patience. He gently draws her into another kiss. It's sweet and soft and chaste. Barely lasts a second before he's pulling back and pressing his forehead to hers instead.
Maeve sniffles at his words, squeezing her eyes shut as the mix in her head with everything else he said, "That's not a very nice thing to say..." She mutters hoarsely and she knows it's a poor joke. Maeve didn't want to hurt him and she thinks that she did. She knows that she did. Her throat is still tight, tears still managing to slip down her cheeks as he draws her close to him. He starts to speak again and she tries hard to focus on his words, drawing in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm the storm of emotions swirling in her gut. "I do want you... I missed you. I-I'm sorry." Her voice cracks on the last word and it doesn't feel like enough. He wants her. She wants him. They could be something. They could have something together. Is it selfish? Yeah, it probably is, but she can't find it in herself to care.
Didn't she say the same thing to Adam? That you don't get to decide what people deserve. What they want to deal with. It's their choice. They get to choose what they put up with in life. What burdens they bare. Locke nuzzles against her lightly, making sure it's clear that this is his choice to make. It is his choice. Even if she's not sure that she is the right choice for him, but he wants her. That's his choice.
Maeve opens her eyes, sniffling against as she draws back just enough to look at him. To meet the hazel gaze she missed so much. She swallows thickly, drawing in a shaky breath, "You don't? You.. you wouldn't care if- if I did?" She feels the need to clarify. To find out what exactly this means now. Not that she's sure it matters. They can take it a step at a time. If they do this. There are no rules for it. His fingers slips into her curls, trailing through the silky strands and she leans into his touch, unable to help herself. "Okay.. Okay.." Maeve whispers, the shakiness in her hands finally starting to dissipate, "Are you sure?"
Maeve sniffles at his words, squeezing her eyes shut as the mix in her head with everything else he said, "That's not a very nice thing to say..." She mutters hoarsely and she knows it's a poor joke. Maeve didn't want to hurt him and she thinks that she did. She knows that she did. Her throat is still tight, tears still managing to slip down her cheeks as he draws her close to him. He starts to speak again and she tries hard to focus on his words, drawing in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm the storm of emotions swirling in her gut. "I do want you... I missed you. I-I'm sorry." Her voice cracks on the last word and it doesn't feel like enough. He wants her. She wants him. They could be something. They could have something together. Is it selfish? Yeah, it probably is, but she can't find it in herself to care.
Didn't she say the same thing to Adam? That you don't get to decide what people deserve. What they want to deal with. It's their choice. They get to choose what they put up with in life. What burdens they bare. Locke nuzzles against her lightly, making sure it's clear that this is his choice to make. It is his choice. Even if she's not sure that she is the right choice for him, but he wants her. That's his choice.
Maeve opens her eyes, sniffling against as she draws back just enough to look at him. To meet the hazel gaze she missed so much. She swallows thickly, drawing in a shaky breath, "You don't? You.. you wouldn't care if- if I did?" She feels the need to clarify. To find out what exactly this means now. Not that she's sure it matters. They can take it a step at a time. If they do this. There are no rules for it. His fingers slips into her curls, trailing through the silky strands and she leans into his touch, unable to help herself. "Okay.. Okay.." Maeve whispers, the shakiness in her hands finally starting to dissipate, "Are you sure?"
These violent delights
Have violent ends
Have violent ends
