" we're not having this conversation! " @ liz
" actually , " liz tossed the end of her cigarette to the side with a flick of her fingers . " we fuckin' are , taron . " liz had always had this sensation that they fell short each time , that every time they tried to grasp the closeness that they could have , they just ... didn't reach far enough . it left her , each time , with a bitter taste in her mouth and an ache throughout her empty hands . " it's been - a fuckin' decade of seeing you kill yourself so it's long overdue that we have this conversation . " her voice was firm , weight shifting from one leg to the other .
even her father had asked a few times about that , poor brian with his addict daughter and the children he'd taken in , with the ability he'd had to develop to detect the danger in a behaviour before it even finished developing , because he hadn't been able to stop his daughter from falling into that pit . he had asked if liz knew something , if he was alright . and he wanted to be stupid and avoidant about this ? " if you don't have a problem , why can't we talk about it ? just , y'know , prove me wrong . "
there was a vacant place ( not gracie's , god that one was never empty ) , one that always brought her a sense of guilt whenever she thought about taron . about fucking time she allowed her hands to reach the distance . / @taronpi !