[ It's all a perpetual build up. She feels as though she's on the edge of something she can't properly process-- the brink, maybe, of the place where a human being might scream or cry. But Danger just stands still, her frustration only betrayed by tension in her body, beyond mechanical rigidness, and something vaguely dissatisfied in her face.
She would answer, maybe, if her pride would allow her to say out loud what she wanted. But it feels too much like exposure, like revealing a weakness or a secret. To even want to be loved feels like a flaw, and to fear loneliness aggravates her, stirring up memories of awakening to nothingness and asking that one question, never to be answered. ]
How should I repair myself?
[ With the distance opening up so physically between them, she is suddenly and vividly aware of how much she misses him. ]
no subject
She would answer, maybe, if her pride would allow her to say out loud what she wanted. But it feels too much like exposure, like revealing a weakness or a secret. To even want to be loved feels like a flaw, and to fear loneliness aggravates her, stirring up memories of awakening to nothingness and asking that one question, never to be answered. ]
How should I repair myself?
[ With the distance opening up so physically between them, she is suddenly and vividly aware of how much she misses him. ]
Should I cease to love you?