☕︎ ——— If she hadn't always been in such careful control over herself, William's words might have knocked the wind out of her completely. Already they left her staring at him with widened eyes, a sharp inhale taken as she opened her mouth to respond but found no words to fit. She and the rest of the people who did that to you got what they deserve. Maybe she'd only never heard it before because she'd never stuck around for anyone else to tell her, or maybe he was the only person who would have granted her that, but either way? It single-handedly crushed most of her irritation with him for what he was.
How was she supposed to answer that?
Easy— she wouldn't. Forcibly closing her lips and swallowing hard, she looked down at her knees and focused on his other words. She had to take a good few deep breaths to separate herself from the shock and relief he'd assaulted her with, but she was nothing if not a pretender. She could breeze past anything, if she needed to. "Yeah, he has," she rasped weakly, clearing her throat after and blinking to keep the tears that threatened the rims of her eyes from spilling. "He always talked about how he had to do the right thing, but I never saw him do it. I don't think he knows what the right thing is, anymore." She didn't, either, but he didn't need to know that much.
Throwing Michael under the bus to evade her own feelings was the least of what she felt the archangel deserved. She didn't know how prayer worked, but she hoped he somehow knew how upset his brother seemed with him, if he didn't already know how she felt well enough. Maybe her own feelings hadn't been enough to take him off his high horse, but maybe a sibling's could. She didn't know. But she could certainly hope that her father's side of the family wasn't the only one feeling the pain of what she'd done.
Emerald hues stayed locked on her own pale skin, on the fabric of her turtleneck over her arms as her grip on her legs pulled them ever so slightly closer to her chest. As much as she did feel understood by him, as much as his willingness to be there for her was appreciated despite knowing even a fraction of the things she'd done in the name of finally being free, she didn't know how to trust what he was saying. Didn't know how to trust him.
Still, there was something in the offer of trying to trust him— she didn't like the life of solitude she had to live, now. She didn't want to push everyone away, only ever having herself for company or to rely on, it had just been the only option left to her before she'd met William. His offer was more than reconciliation between family that had never known the other existed, it was a life-line to keep her going, whether or not he was aware of that.
"But... I-I guess... If you're really okay with the things I have to do, then I—" she hesitated, the words catching in her throat like the lump just before tears. She didn't know how much she could promise him, as much as she did need the trust he was offering. Needed anyone or anything that might understand her. "I'll try. To trust you, I mean. It's... It's not easy but— I-I guess it'd be unfair to judge you for what he did. S-so... Thanks."
A part of her wished she could give him more for the unbearable load of understanding he'd dropped on her, but she didn't have anything left. Trust, now more than ever, was going to have to be earned. She didn't know what kind of hoops he'd have to jump through to really earn that from her, and she did feel bad knowing that he'd have to. But he was willing, right? Did that make it okay?
Did okay even apply to her anymore? She wasn't sure.
