a beat . teeth aching to clench together and hands smoothed into the pockets of his jeans . frigid –– so familiar and unwelcome . struggling to retain what was HIM and what was HIS OWN . han PREPARED for this and he had a mental list of every single response he could give ;; but Her voice was even more cold than expected therefore His answer could only echo
“ that’s far too predictable . i prefer the grand gestures . ” he refused to acknowledge the apology part . if he let it , the words faux and apology would ring throughout his mind for hours to days to weeks . { i n h a l e } “ if i told you all of those things right away , it wouldn’t seem very sincere –– i wouldn’t even believe me . ”
predictability. everything comes down to the lone fact . . . HE DOES NOT WANT TO BE PREDICTED. a choice between the mundane, but trusted, & & the unexpected, but unreliable & & he’ll always choose the latter. *SHE sits, she could faint . . . she could falter in her attempt of strength. SHE COULD FADE. “ then what ? “ why has *SHE decided this ? coming here, to his quarters, as if this resolves the cracking . . . the SHATTERING fever of abandonment.
“ what do you have to say ? have you anything to say - - - ? “ her body racks with shivers / / SHE WILL NOT ADMIT TO HER FROST , do not offer her warmth. she’ll smack you away, allow you the pain of watching her freeze before you.
“ , , . . maybe, this - - - no, this was a mistake. “ BUT SHE’S JUST SAT ; now she’s up again, her frost is expanding the ribcage, *SHE CANNOT BE HERE , it’s beginning to hurt, breathing, seeing, the whole experience. “ i’ll leave first.”
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