Aurelia
and that the world is always our fault
when we did nothing, how did we do wrong?
when we did nothing, how did we do wrong?
Sunjata's words cut through her anger in the same way that water quenched flames. It was the reassurance she needed but, did not realize she would get. Her lip curled in a quiet, disbelieving 'tsk'. He moved, though, taking his arm away - and she had not realized how long she'd let it remain - and turning in the seat to face her with his body. Her jaw unclenched and her eyelids sank halfway over her eyes as she looked down at the drink in his hands.
However, at the word 'survivor', her green irises raised up to meet the blue of his. His words were deep and meant to encourage. They weren't lost on her, weren't wasted breath. She had never talked about this kind of shit with anyone else before. It wasn't a difficult thing to understand, if you ever gave up a part of yourself for someone else; if you'd ever sacrificed something for a cause greater than yourself. But hearing someone put those feelings, that truth, into words was incredibly comforting for some reason... To be assured that the plight was understood, was felt by others, even if in a different way. It was testimony that everything was so very real.
Aurelia leaned forward and grabbed her half-full glass of mead, leaning her elbows down over her legs. She stayed like that for a moment, hunched forward in deep thought. Thoughts about the rugged, mechanical worlds they had both come from. The pit he had dragged himself from, bruised, bloody, and alive - but at what cost? She turned her face back up to look at him and leaned back, realizing exactly the words he said into the air at the same moment he said them. None of it could be changed; the only thing they had control over was their futures, the actions they took now. She took a drink.
"I hear you..." came her murmur of a reply. She breathed in another hit of the cigarette pressed firmly between her fingers. She released the smoke in a forceful plume. As much as she wanted to, as much as she agreed with everything he said, as grateful as she was, she could not mirror his energy - and the guilt of that showed in her eyes as she looked at him.
She then turned her glass up until the liquid was gone, plunking it on the table. She wiped the moisture from her lips and sank bank into her cigarette. "Ironic, isn't it? The moment you become a survivor, you're a killer, too."
"We'll never just be.. survivors, Sunjata. There's no letting go of what's happened. There's always going to be that darkness, following us - and we'll keep running. Like a vicious cycle," her gaze flickered, though, and she admitted, "but I really do hope we can find a way to push through. To be more than... the sum of everything that's happened to us."
However, at the word 'survivor', her green irises raised up to meet the blue of his. His words were deep and meant to encourage. They weren't lost on her, weren't wasted breath. She had never talked about this kind of shit with anyone else before. It wasn't a difficult thing to understand, if you ever gave up a part of yourself for someone else; if you'd ever sacrificed something for a cause greater than yourself. But hearing someone put those feelings, that truth, into words was incredibly comforting for some reason... To be assured that the plight was understood, was felt by others, even if in a different way. It was testimony that everything was so very real.
Aurelia leaned forward and grabbed her half-full glass of mead, leaning her elbows down over her legs. She stayed like that for a moment, hunched forward in deep thought. Thoughts about the rugged, mechanical worlds they had both come from. The pit he had dragged himself from, bruised, bloody, and alive - but at what cost? She turned her face back up to look at him and leaned back, realizing exactly the words he said into the air at the same moment he said them. None of it could be changed; the only thing they had control over was their futures, the actions they took now. She took a drink.
"I hear you..." came her murmur of a reply. She breathed in another hit of the cigarette pressed firmly between her fingers. She released the smoke in a forceful plume. As much as she wanted to, as much as she agreed with everything he said, as grateful as she was, she could not mirror his energy - and the guilt of that showed in her eyes as she looked at him.
She then turned her glass up until the liquid was gone, plunking it on the table. She wiped the moisture from her lips and sank bank into her cigarette. "Ironic, isn't it? The moment you become a survivor, you're a killer, too."
"We'll never just be.. survivors, Sunjata. There's no letting go of what's happened. There's always going to be that darkness, following us - and we'll keep running. Like a vicious cycle," her gaze flickered, though, and she admitted, "but I really do hope we can find a way to push through. To be more than... the sum of everything that's happened to us."
and I've been thinking that when we thought
the world would break us, that we weren't wrong
the world would break us, that we weren't wrong
