and all of us, we’re meant for the fire, but we keep rising up and walking the wires
Her lips spread wide at his cursing, able to pull apart the disdain and relishing in it. She has never cared that he found her intrusive, never cared that she dipped her fingers into the currents of his mind, flipping through the pages of it languidly like one might peruse a novel. He is, quite literally, an open book to her and she has never once apologized for it. They are born of the same flesh and she feels as much right to his thoughts as to her own. “You should not use such unsavory language,” she chides, although it is an empty threat. They both know that she does not care whatever language he wishes to curse her.
At his next words, this time actually spoken aloud, she just rolls her eyes.
“You know I don’t care if you want me here or not.”
She’s never cared. She comes and goes as she pleases, living life on her own terms. In many ways, it is the only way she can protect herself. It is the only way she can shield herself from the pain of the world. When you have been left as vulnerable as she has to the truth of the world, the ugliness of it spilled open before her, you have to resurrect a wall. You have to tell yourself you don’t care. You have to force it.
She hears his next thoughts, chaotic and jumbled as they are and she stiffens, mismatched eyes growing a little harder, a little cooler. “I know,” she says, her voice clipped. “I don’t care. He has his family and his other children so let him have them.” If they were not good enough for him, she wasn’t going to rip open her chest and bleed her heart out for him. If he didn’t want her then she wouldn’t let herself care.
“I don’t even know what home is,” she finds his gaze. “Do you?”
lynx
@[Levi]