Well. That certainly puts a damper on things, doesn’t it? There’s no heat in his eyes when she touches him this time, only...oh. Wow. The disgust in his eyes as he turns away tears at that confusing place in her chest that’s been aching at the thought of him not wanting her anymore. Tears it right open, though she damn well isn’t going to let him see it. Thank whatever gods there may be that he’s finding it so hard to look at her, because it takes a moment for her to wipe the pain off her face, to still the trembling of her lower lip, to catch her breath when it’s suddenly trying to shake.
Hiding her emotions has never been a strength of Revol’s, nor something she’s ever even really tried before. There’s never been a reason to. But she does her best to play the carefree, wide-eyed wanderer she’s always been and not this new person who’s bleeding into her chest from some strange place inside that she didn’t really know she had before it started hurting so.
He makes it clear with just a few little words that even if he’s not nothing to her, she’s certainly not much to him. And he lies down on the ground, still not so much as looking at her. She walks closer, her steps hesitant, quiet. And when she reaches his side, she murmurs, “Okay, honey. If that’s what you want.” And she brushes silver lips against his cheek one last time before turning away. “Goodbye, then. I’m sorry--”
She manages to stop herself from finishing the sentence only because she has no idea how it’s supposed to end. And if her voice was a little shakier than she’d like, well, she’s doing her best, okay? She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “Take care, honey,” she murmurs, and the words are steadier now. “I’ll try not to see you around, okay?” It isn’t like she’s run into him on purpose so far, but if he wants nothing to do with her she can at least try to pay more attention to where her wandering takes her so she doesn’t crash into him again.
Hiding her emotions has never been a strength of Revol’s, nor something she’s ever even really tried before. There’s never been a reason to. But she does her best to play the carefree, wide-eyed wanderer she’s always been and not this new person who’s bleeding into her chest from some strange place inside that she didn’t really know she had before it started hurting so.
He makes it clear with just a few little words that even if he’s not nothing to her, she’s certainly not much to him. And he lies down on the ground, still not so much as looking at her. She walks closer, her steps hesitant, quiet. And when she reaches his side, she murmurs, “Okay, honey. If that’s what you want.” And she brushes silver lips against his cheek one last time before turning away. “Goodbye, then. I’m sorry--”
She manages to stop herself from finishing the sentence only because she has no idea how it’s supposed to end. And if her voice was a little shakier than she’d like, well, she’s doing her best, okay? She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “Take care, honey,” she murmurs, and the words are steadier now. “I’ll try not to see you around, okay?” It isn’t like she’s run into him on purpose so far, but if he wants nothing to do with her she can at least try to pay more attention to where her wandering takes her so she doesn’t crash into him again.