[ She looks at him and feels even worse. He doesn't know what he's done wrong, he couldn't possibly know, and she's not supposed to tell him. She's not supposed to tell anyone and it's eating her alive. Yes, she's already broken that rule once, but who would even want to know the details of how another version of themselves lived and died? ]
No, it's not. [ The words end in a sob and she presses a tight fist to her mouth, trying to keep the rest of them inside. And then she forcefully brushes away those trails of salty sadness on her cheeks and shakes her head. ]
You should go. [ Each syllable is like broken glass in her throat. There's no steel in her voice, only sorrow, and she can't bring herself to look at him. She doesn't want him to leave but it hurts so much to have him stay. ]
no subject
No, it's not. [ The words end in a sob and she presses a tight fist to her mouth, trying to keep the rest of them inside. And then she forcefully brushes away those trails of salty sadness on her cheeks and shakes her head. ]
You should go. [ Each syllable is like broken glass in her throat. There's no steel in her voice, only sorrow, and she can't bring herself to look at him. She doesn't want him to leave but it hurts so much to have him stay. ]