[ she thinks of her confession to netzach (i think i should like to fall in love someday, if it is as wonderful as the stories say, for all the pain that may come tied to it) and
yes, she wants to. she doesn't, but she does; if it was anything like this, but different somehow, then she wouldn't mind it. it would make her content. it would ease her, a simple call of her name (don quixote) would bring a smile to her face. a hand in hers, head rest against their shoulder, don breathes out softly. it weighs at her heart at the same time, though, and she sets it aside.
it's easy to, with his hand in hers. her head resting on his shoulder. ]
We shall make certain of it, for I should like to remember this [ a squeeze of his hand ] as well.
[ them, like this. taking silly pictures and speaking frankly about things that don't, but do, matter.
... they're friendly back home, but this... it's not this, and don doesn't think it could be. she doesn't know if she wishes it could be. but she wants to remember anyway. something's different here. changed, in a way. colored by their experiences. she gets it. ]
And what of thee? One cannot speak advice without being expected to take it themselves, so I should like to see thee endeavoring the same -- if it comes up.
[ though
as easily spoken as it is, because it's true: she does want him happy, if he sees someone he likes and wants to court them it's his right and she'll always stand by it, she'll even help out... her stomach flips regardless, a creeping feeling wedged between her back and the safety of the cushion. there's no explanation for it, and she doesn't ask for one. ]
no subject
yes, she wants to. she doesn't, but she does; if it was anything like this, but different somehow, then she wouldn't mind it. it would make her content. it would ease her, a simple call of her name (don quixote) would bring a smile to her face. a hand in hers, head rest against their shoulder, don breathes out softly. it weighs at her heart at the same time, though, and she sets it aside.
it's easy to, with his hand in hers. her head resting on his shoulder. ]
We shall make certain of it, for I should like to remember this [ a squeeze of his hand ] as well.
[ them, like this. taking silly pictures and speaking frankly about things that don't, but do, matter.
... they're friendly back home, but this... it's not this, and don doesn't think it could be. she doesn't know if she wishes it could be. but she wants to remember anyway. something's different here. changed, in a way. colored by their experiences. she gets it. ]
And what of thee? One cannot speak advice without being expected to take it themselves, so I should like to see thee endeavoring the same -- if it comes up.
[ though
as easily spoken as it is, because it's true: she does want him happy, if he sees someone he likes and wants to court them it's his right and she'll always stand by it, she'll even help out... her stomach flips regardless, a creeping feeling wedged between her back and the safety of the cushion. there's no explanation for it, and she doesn't ask for one. ]