Jun 14, 2016
@ruinaa
they sit quiet in the kitchen together. ridley holds a cup of warm hot chocolate to his hands, wrapped now from the burns. he was -- out of practice. ( but he had never really been in practice at all, had he. ) but willow was safe, and the state of his hands didn’t matter. nothing really mattered but her safety, curled up in bed, clean and asleep.
mom comes back in after being on the phone with who he can only assume is his father, in DC doing -- whatever it was he did now. she looks to him pensively, and he knows a conversation that was supposed to happen a long time ago had to happen now.
“I was wrong.”
he says it without looking at her, staring down into the steam of the mug.
