Maea
And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die
It heals them when you die
What could she say to that? Or do, except nod? He was right, she had been fighting back against his efforts to soothe and help. "I can try," she sighed. Hated the word, as it had become synonymous with Sunjata's half hearted attempts at changing without actually putting in any effort. "I'm sorry. I just hate feeling weak. It's part of what I want to change most. Always leaning on others to fix my problems."
And yet here she was again. Leaning. With arms around her that wasn't Sunjata's. It didn't matter much that Loren was acting the friend, Maea still felt a stab in her chest, as if she was somehow betraying something. Ridiculous, because she was allowed to hug whoever she wanted. Had before without any problems, and yet...
And yet.
"It was all going so well," she said, voice quieting. A little muffled as she spoke into his chest, not looking up. A small, pale hand reached up, to take hold of the back of his shirt. "The day was beautiful, and he looked happy. More than I have seen in so long. The house... it was perfect, Loren. I could really see us there. Living." With each word, the fight left her. The anger, the belligerence, the seething annoyance... it was all a facade to shield against the ceaseless onslaught of pain.
"I-I really... wan-wanted it t-to work..!"
And just like that, the floodgates were breached. Maea began to cry, those same quiet, shuddering tears Loren had been faced with on a rooftop not so far away. But as the grief overcame her again, the sobs became harder, more desperate, until she let out an agonized sound and buried her face fully against Loren, clinging to him like she might crumble if she let go. Or if he did.
And yet here she was again. Leaning. With arms around her that wasn't Sunjata's. It didn't matter much that Loren was acting the friend, Maea still felt a stab in her chest, as if she was somehow betraying something. Ridiculous, because she was allowed to hug whoever she wanted. Had before without any problems, and yet...
And yet.
"It was all going so well," she said, voice quieting. A little muffled as she spoke into his chest, not looking up. A small, pale hand reached up, to take hold of the back of his shirt. "The day was beautiful, and he looked happy. More than I have seen in so long. The house... it was perfect, Loren. I could really see us there. Living." With each word, the fight left her. The anger, the belligerence, the seething annoyance... it was all a facade to shield against the ceaseless onslaught of pain.
"I-I really... wan-wanted it t-to work..!"
And just like that, the floodgates were breached. Maea began to cry, those same quiet, shuddering tears Loren had been faced with on a rooftop not so far away. But as the grief overcame her again, the sobs became harder, more desperate, until she let out an agonized sound and buried her face fully against Loren, clinging to him like she might crumble if she let go. Or if he did.
And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh
A whisper within a sigh
