Maeve
It's not even the rejection that stings. Nor is it the pity that she sees in his gaze. It's none of that. It's what he's leaving her for. A home, a family, a partner who loves him more than anything. A bitter part of her hates him for it. An even larger part hates herself for not being enough for anyone to truly want. Not past a one night stand. Not past a friendship. Her throat tightens, but she refuses to let him see her cry more.
A space of a breath has a mask slipping so firmly into place it's hard to read anything at all. She sits up, wrapping the blanket tightly around her thin frame, forcing a smile that seems so much like the real ones she used to give him. "Don't worry about it, Jata. Sorry to keep you." Maeve murmurs and it's like a switch has been flipped even though she's falling apart inside. Even though his words still prod at the raw parts of her emotions, serving as a reminder that she is nothing and will always be nothing.
Pressing up on her tiptoes, she leaves him with a kiss on his cheek, "Let me know about that training, yeah?" It's said nonchalantly like they hadn't done what they just did and like she wasn't coming apart at her seams.
A space of a breath has a mask slipping so firmly into place it's hard to read anything at all. She sits up, wrapping the blanket tightly around her thin frame, forcing a smile that seems so much like the real ones she used to give him. "Don't worry about it, Jata. Sorry to keep you." Maeve murmurs and it's like a switch has been flipped even though she's falling apart inside. Even though his words still prod at the raw parts of her emotions, serving as a reminder that she is nothing and will always be nothing.
Pressing up on her tiptoes, she leaves him with a kiss on his cheek, "Let me know about that training, yeah?" It's said nonchalantly like they hadn't done what they just did and like she wasn't coming apart at her seams.
NO ONE WANTS YOU WHEN YOU HAVE NO HEART
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS