𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒, though she genuinely feels on the inside to hear them. it’s hard for her to smile, to emote in a way that doesn’t make her seem pissed off, bitchty, or anything similar. genuine happiness is rare for her these days, feeling she can only find in the presence of her husband or in moments with friends that catch her off guard. ( she’d been so 𝚁𝙾𝙱𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙲 for so long that mind forgets. so emotionless in the wake of being used, of her brain being tossed in a blender over && over. being conventionally “normal” like everyone else might be hard for her, but perhaps she can get to a happy 𝖒𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖚𝖒. therapy has helped, though, but only so much . . a condition of her pardon that she needed in the first place. ) ; ❝ i, uh, i try to be. yeah. ❞ head nods a little, hands working the sleeves of her deep green sweater over palms. shoulders hunch forward in the cold, breeze turning pale cheeks a splash of rosy as they continue on their comfortable stroll through central park. ❝ it’s not always the easier, but the mandated therapy is somewhat of a plus. i’m stubborn to open up, but anyone in my position would be. 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 feels harder when your mind has black spots . . when you’d rather not face it. ❞ evelyn’s comfortable with yelena, you can tell by how freely she talks. she could never do that with her therapist. ❝ though, doctor would say that’s counterproductive. ❞ sigh is pushed out of her chest, head turning toward yelena again. ❝ how are you, though? how are things with steve? ❞
