“I’m not crying.” For Alice
three word starters -- x
That’s a lie, Alice thinks. And not a very good one either, seeing as – well, she very clearly is. No sense in denying it. At least, Alice doesn’t think so, but then who is she to judge sense? If she’s being honest, Alice stopped looking for sense in people a long time ago.
So, Drizella isn’t crying. Alice nods. “All right.” A beat. “You’re not crying.” Another pause, longer this time. Alice observing Drizella quietly. Observing her not crying, one teardrop tracing the apple of her cheek after another, staining the shoulder of her smart dress.
Another person might leave it at that. Let it go. Leave Drizella to not cry in private. But Alice isn’t another person. Couldn’t be, even if she tried. And she’s tried loads. So instead, once the silence between them has gotten so loud she can’t bear it anymore, Alice speaks again, “But if you were crying, it would be okay, you know. I’ve cried. Lots of times.” If the walls of the tower could speak to anyone but her, it could write a novel with all the tears they helped her dry.
“It helps, I think. To talk about it.” It helped her, anyway. “If you wanted maybe I could... ‘not listen’?”