“Why do you think I would ever stop wanting to be around you, Norman?” Smearing away her tears, a surge of anger bubbled quietly in her veins. He so readily talked himself down, he refused to see himself with any kind of softer lense or even take her at her word. A chronic overthinker, Lou had already fought with herself, attempting to talk herself out of how she felt - to find any reason not to love him. Eventually, even with all he had done and all he had been through, and with how poorly he viewed himself, she only ever found one: he was never going allow himself to love her back.
Louise softened as she looked to him, mellowing that unnecessary and unwelcome fury. Pacing closer to him, she reached for his hand again and, despite her tears, offered him a warm smile. The very last thing he needed was for her to be uncharacteristically reactive - she understood his reservations and his fears as well as she was able to.
“I know you don’t want me to see you at your worst, but I’m also aware how you struggle. I know you struggle often, Norman. And I’m your friend, whether you believe I truly love you or not, I’m your friend and I want to support you. I need you to know I’m here for you.” She could feel her momentary strength swallowed whole by that need, her eyes too quickly flooding with tears as she crumbled and dropped her forehead to his chest. “Good days and bad days - please trust that I’m here for all of it, and all of you.”
There was an ache in him that he didn’t quite know how to understand or even acknowledge. An old and constant ache that he’d only really know if it was ever absent.
Whenever he needed someone, they went away. If he needed Louise, he was sure that she would go away too, one way or the other. He would make a mistake. She would change her mind. Or something else, something outside of their control... there was no being sure that he wouldn’t slip away again.
“You can’t make promises like that, Louise,” he said, a slightly dark edge to his voice. “You don’t know how long you’ll be here, or how much. I-I don’t want to make you cry anymore, but I can’t be what you want. Even if what you want is me. I can’t always be that.”
Carefully, he put his hand on her back, trying to comfort her, but not wanting to touch her too much. “Can it be enough that I care about you?” he asked, softly. “And that you care about me. Can that be enough so you won’t want to cry anymore?”
snowghoul
theartofmadeline
andulkaphoto
2087
vaporwave
