there are days when the weight of the world feels heavy on her shoulder and joy and laughter and rest feel like the memories of a different woman.
( a better woman, a good woman )
those are the days when she needs him the most.
there is something so... pure in the way doctor ryland grace experiences the world; with wonder, with curiosity. childlike in his pursuit of both knowledge and friendship. how a person like that can remain intact in a dying world, she's none the wiser, but she guesses she could thanks the americans for their relentless optimism. unfortunately, it rubs off, she believes. she used their expression to name her project, after all.
( hail mary, full of— )
" doctor grace? " she finds him at his lab, making balloons out of rubber gloves. carl was laughing before she entered, even doctor lokken was trying to hide a smile. doctor lokken...
" what is the meaning of this? " she asks trying to make sense of the spectacle in front of her, her gaze going from one person to the other until her eyes finally find ryland's, just above his always down, always crooked glasses.
" silly can feel good. " is all @topshelfperverts gives her in reply. childlike in all but appearance, apparently.
she sighs and feels twice her age once more. " i don't doubt that, but i would appreciate you use your time outside of the laboratory to be silly. " she explains, soft but firm, as one would with a toddler, and while carl and lokken seem almost apologetic, ryland still wears a inflated glove above his head like the crest of a rooster.
she wishes she didn't find it funny.