Aurelia
and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be
maybe they never will be
She slowly enters the living room where he directs their path, quickly discovering that there is a crib sitting within. It catches her attention before and after anything else, and her eyes seem to lock onto it for much of the duration of his talking. Though she notices that he doesn't really look at her for much of it, as she glances back up to see him pull out a chair for her in the kitchen.
She takes the seat gratefully, slumping into it and sighing quietly as she listens. I thought Kamaria was too big for a crib... is an underlying curiosity, but it's shadowed by the topic at hand.
He sets the glass in front of her, and she can't bring herself to look up at him from it. Her hands go around the base, her fingers tapping the sides. Until he mentions the wound and the extent of it on his person, glancing up at the area around the collar of his shirt.
"I'm sorry, Sunjata..." she manages, anything else she wants to say lodging in her throat except for: "I should have been there." When it happened, to prevent it -- or after, to be there for him.
She takes the seat gratefully, slumping into it and sighing quietly as she listens. I thought Kamaria was too big for a crib... is an underlying curiosity, but it's shadowed by the topic at hand.
He sets the glass in front of her, and she can't bring herself to look up at him from it. Her hands go around the base, her fingers tapping the sides. Until he mentions the wound and the extent of it on his person, glancing up at the area around the collar of his shirt.
"I'm sorry, Sunjata..." she manages, anything else she wants to say lodging in her throat except for: "I should have been there." When it happened, to prevent it -- or after, to be there for him.
but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep
when you're ready to sleep
