You haven't been shy about your feelings toward people in my position.
[ the overall consensus? glaringly negative, and rightfully so. he has every reason to disdain the prestige that orbits her, follows her as surely as the sky trails the sun. perhaps he's right; perhaps she's inviting that disdain, in some small part, like a self-fulfilling prophecy.
latching onto old, rotten coping mechanisms has always spared her the full brunt of a strike. if you prepare for the pain, it's far less likely to shock your system. she can't deny that every muscle is lined with that anticipation, a fighting stance of another kind entirely, but — ]
I only thought you must've had some questions.
[ she would, in his place. but now the absurdity of his calmness, his nonchalance, pours over her like an ice bucket raining down on her head. it feels good that he doesn't care. it feels — awful that he doesn't care. maybe he's hoping to ignore it, set it aside on a shelf, the way she had once wished she could — but she can't separate these pieces of herself. not anymore.
her lips thin as the realization creeps over her. she's only strained this further, pushed into awkward territory. she slides a step back, and then another. ]
I was wrong. Now I'm the one making assumptions. [ yes, she is absolutely aiming to save face and make an exit. ] We can forget any of this happened.
no subject
[ the overall consensus? glaringly negative, and rightfully so. he has every reason to disdain the prestige that orbits her, follows her as surely as the sky trails the sun. perhaps he's right; perhaps she's inviting that disdain, in some small part, like a self-fulfilling prophecy.
latching onto old, rotten coping mechanisms has always spared her the full brunt of a strike. if you prepare for the pain, it's far less likely to shock your system. she can't deny that every muscle is lined with that anticipation, a fighting stance of another kind entirely, but — ]
I only thought you must've had some questions.
[ she would, in his place. but now the absurdity of his calmness, his nonchalance, pours over her like an ice bucket raining down on her head. it feels good that he doesn't care. it feels — awful that he doesn't care. maybe he's hoping to ignore it, set it aside on a shelf, the way she had once wished she could — but she can't separate these pieces of herself. not anymore.
her lips thin as the realization creeps over her. she's only strained this further, pushed into awkward territory. she slides a step back, and then another. ]
I was wrong. Now I'm the one making assumptions. [ yes, she is absolutely aiming to save face and make an exit. ] We can forget any of this happened.