but the thing is, even if i could go back, i wouldn't belong there anymore
Aurelia's surprised by the insight given, and it's an evident emotion that flickers in her gaze as she watches Maeve speak. She offers only a quiet nod, though so much is said within it. That it's true, that she will if she feels she has to. She can try to be better, she can try to do better the next time and learn from her mistakes, but she can never be something she isn't.
Maeve gets up and Aurelia's brows shift, her gaze churning and growing darker. She leans back in her seat, her hands falling to the arms of the chair. There's an instinctual push back, to shrink away from the touch as Maeve's hand reaches out to cup her cheek. Her fingers grasp firmly around the arms of the chair. Her chin tips down and her gaze averts just as Maeve's thumb begins to stroke her skin, though she doesn't pull away - not entirely. It's a bit too much for her to handle still, though she doesn't want to hurt Maeve again. She feels torn.
I missed you, Maeve says, and though her words are genuine and soft it feels wounding. Aurelia's glassy eyes turn back up to look at her and her lips part as if she might try to say something. But Maeve goes on, still wants you.
The confession is jarring. Aurelia hadn't expected this at all and, furthermore, she's the one who doesn't understand. One of her hands reaches up to gently grasp Maeve's, to pull it down from her own cheek and hold it within her fingers. Why she holds on, she doesn't know. "I don't know why you still care for me, and so deeply, too..." she says, eyes closing with the weight, "I'll only end up hurting you again." Her gaze opens and, when it does, she lets go of Maeve's hand. "And that's not what I want."
Maeve gets up and Aurelia's brows shift, her gaze churning and growing darker. She leans back in her seat, her hands falling to the arms of the chair. There's an instinctual push back, to shrink away from the touch as Maeve's hand reaches out to cup her cheek. Her fingers grasp firmly around the arms of the chair. Her chin tips down and her gaze averts just as Maeve's thumb begins to stroke her skin, though she doesn't pull away - not entirely. It's a bit too much for her to handle still, though she doesn't want to hurt Maeve again. She feels torn.
I missed you, Maeve says, and though her words are genuine and soft it feels wounding. Aurelia's glassy eyes turn back up to look at her and her lips part as if she might try to say something. But Maeve goes on, still wants you.
The confession is jarring. Aurelia hadn't expected this at all and, furthermore, she's the one who doesn't understand. One of her hands reaches up to gently grasp Maeve's, to pull it down from her own cheek and hold it within her fingers. Why she holds on, she doesn't know. "I don't know why you still care for me, and so deeply, too..." she says, eyes closing with the weight, "I'll only end up hurting you again." Her gaze opens and, when it does, she lets go of Maeve's hand. "And that's not what I want."
Aurelia
