i'll always love you the most; any

[Glassheart]

“Yes,” he answers; an ode to the memories that don’t belong to her. The sound of it sends a wave of prickled skin down her back, and Glassheart shifts her weight, wearing her apprehension visibly. She can’t shake the feeling that she’s been here before, that she’s had this same conversation already.

It was different the first time though, almost like a dream.

Something inside of her is wrong. There is this presence, this feeling - it sits heavy on her chest, and she can feel the ache of it as it grows and expands with every breath that she draws. It’s taking pieces of her and stitching her back together using patches of someone else entirely. The memories are not her own.

The cave is not her own.
The words are not her own.

But the answers lie in all the places she cannot travel. They’re whispered off the tongues of the dead, and in amongst the bones at the bottom of a cold and angry river.

“Are you?” he asks.

“Alone?” she wonders aloud. The obvious answer was no, but she can’t bring herself to say it. She doesn’t want to admit what’s battling inside of her, and furthermore, she doesn’t want to scare him. He’s young, and cold, and alone. He has enough on his plate. She compromises with, “I don’t know.” and decides to change the subject. The next question comes to her easy as something maternal inside of her itches. Was it her, or someone else?

“Where is your mother? It’s too cold.”

@Warden