@deifiedstars sent: ✐ (from jonas <3)
thousands of possibilities. / accepting.
there’s an uncomfortable note to the silence around them, made of unspoken words & half - thought out sentiments. they don’t seem to know where to begin with talking ( not that it’s an activity that comes easily to her now anyways ) so they simply ... don’t. vocalizations aren’t necessary as they take their stocks anyway, sorting through the remaining supplies of the chip shoppe. that which can be used to one side of the room, that which can’t ... placed elsewhere to salvage what can still be useful. they’re children of the isle, hardly foolish enough to throw out everything at first glance.
she pretends to not notice that the distance between the piles is dwindling. the limp to her step is obvious, after all. though her pride reels at the quiet blow, she has no desire to aggravate her condition more than necessary.
“ i’m not dead, ” uma says at last, filling the thorny space, her voice still heavily damaged & hoarse. the words are so quiet that she needs to stop moving to be audible. & dear olympus, they hurt. they burn at the inside of her throat, rasping & scratching. a sandstorm caught just behind her tongue, each fine particle tearing at her vocal cords until they feel as though they may burst.
but she wants to say something to him, to break this awkwardness & offer something to convince him that nothing, really, has changed.
( except it has. )
reluctantly, she adds a quiet addition to her previous assurances, pushing through the pain to speak again. this time, more for herself. “ but something in me definitely is. ”