And if she barely shifts her gaze to the bruises she can see at the edges of her book, where her bare skin is still there.
There's not any weight toward guilt or accusation or any specific emotion. It's that she's not lacked in some of those abysmally pointed thoughts that he has but won't speak either. It's their training. Even for and about each other.
And she opened her mouth, meaning to say
A bright and shiny one. Something about airports.
But what came out, quietly, was, "You're still you, Sam."
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2011-10-22 09:21 pm (UTC)And if she barely shifts her gaze to the bruises she can see at the edges of her book, where her bare skin is still there.
There's not any weight toward guilt or accusation or any specific emotion. It's that she's not lacked in some of those abysmally pointed thoughts that he has but won't speak either. It's their training. Even for and about each other.
And she opened her mouth, meaning to say
A bright and shiny one. Something about airports.
But what came out, quietly, was, "You're still you, Sam."