[ Frustration swells inside of her. It's almost comfortingly familiar, her own rage-- painful, but in a way she can cope with and understand. How simple it was, to be new, and to only know how to feel a handful of consuming things. Anger and hate. Emotions she could name and categorize. But this anger is tinged in something more bitter, elements she recognizes from other feelings, like regret and jealousy, love and loneliness.
Her fingers close around his upper arms, not rough, but not gentle either-- firm, when she pushes, easing him away from her, pointedly making a greater space between them before she responds. ]
You are wrong. That does not matter. You are overcomplicating the circumstances of this conflict. There are two primary facts of any relevance: Firstly, that we love you and wish to be with you. Secondly, that the first is impossible for us both to have.
no subject
Her fingers close around his upper arms, not rough, but not gentle either-- firm, when she pushes, easing him away from her, pointedly making a greater space between them before she responds. ]
You are wrong.
That does not matter.
You are overcomplicating the circumstances of this conflict.
There are two primary facts of any relevance:
Firstly, that we love you and wish to be with you.
Secondly, that the first is impossible for us both to have.