Maeve
It's a slap to the face. She falters, going still as she looks over at him, trying so hard to read him and failing. Her Locke isn't here anymore. Any part of him is buried deep down, shut away so he can do this, it's the only thing that makes sense. Maeve doesn't let herself break more than she already has, refusing to crumble under his hard gaze despite the way her knees feel weak, lungs unable to work properly. Her heart beats in her chest, but she's not even sure she feels it beyond the way it cracks and splinters.
She wants to say more. To ask him if it's about the Halenani or Sunjata or any number of things, but she can't trust herself to speak. If she speaks she's going to fall apart. So poorly held together as she is already, it would be her downfall. Maeve reaches up to wipe roughly at her eyes even as the tears keep coming, "If that's what you want..." It's so unlike her to just lay down and take it. To not fight back. To not claw and scratch and cling. She can't bring herself to this time.
It would hurt too much to be shut out again. To be pushed aside again. To not be enough. The hole in her chest grows larger, raw and bleeding at the edges as she turns towards the door, lingering there at war with herself. Maeve looks back at him, silent beyond the occasional sniffle, "You can get rid of my things or I'll send someone to get them... Clearly I've overstayed my welcome already." It's a low blow and she's not even sure it hurts him. How could it? She's the one falling apart as he just stands there, unmoving and uncaring, cutting ties as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Maybe for him it is. Maeve doesn't stay to find out.
~FIN
She wants to say more. To ask him if it's about the Halenani or Sunjata or any number of things, but she can't trust herself to speak. If she speaks she's going to fall apart. So poorly held together as she is already, it would be her downfall. Maeve reaches up to wipe roughly at her eyes even as the tears keep coming, "If that's what you want..." It's so unlike her to just lay down and take it. To not fight back. To not claw and scratch and cling. She can't bring herself to this time.
It would hurt too much to be shut out again. To be pushed aside again. To not be enough. The hole in her chest grows larger, raw and bleeding at the edges as she turns towards the door, lingering there at war with herself. Maeve looks back at him, silent beyond the occasional sniffle, "You can get rid of my things or I'll send someone to get them... Clearly I've overstayed my welcome already." It's a low blow and she's not even sure it hurts him. How could it? She's the one falling apart as he just stands there, unmoving and uncaring, cutting ties as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Maybe for him it is. Maeve doesn't stay to find out.
~FIN
Babe, there's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this
Oh what a sin
Something so precious about this
Oh what a sin
