She is not a dull girl, but his pain is so far removed from her reality, that it feels like an impossibility. She only knows the freedom of the wild and the joy in the shifting. She knows the law of the wild world that her mother has drilled into her—the power there is in living a life by your own rules, of your own accord. It is an impossible thing to feel trapped, to be unable to leave, to be stuck somewhere you hate.
Still, she tries. She tries desperately to discern what he is saying and to understand his pain. She stares into it like one might stare into the sun, but all she feels is blinded in the aftermath. She blinks and blinks again, trying to find her vision again, but the haze of his pain remains. It sticks in her throat.
“I don’t think you could ever be unimportant,” she finally replies, grabbing on one of the words that had stuck like burrs in her. “Why wouldn’t you want to be loved?” This in response to the later part of his speech. Breach shakes her delicate head, dual-colored eyes closing as she feels the beginning of a headache forming, the confusion settling like lead in her veins—leaving her feeling heavy.
She bites down, catches her cheek between her teeth, tries to use the small dose of pain to focus, but it doesn’t help her clarify what he’s telling her. Concern finally touches her expression as she begins to work through what he’s telling her—at least catching some of the meaning if the rest doesn’t take root.
“Are you a monster?”
Her head angles to the side a little, ears perking.
“My mother always told me that people might call me a monster, but that’s only because they are afraid.”
A pause, head dropping a little.
“I am not afraid of you, Yadigar.”
I want to swim until we both begin to feel the weightlessness sink in