when? it’s not a question she’ll ask because it’s a question she doesn’t believe in. it’s not going to get better; it will only keep getting worse. the only hope they have is that things will go back to the center eventually, hanging in the imbalance between good and bad. but it will never lean towards GOOD; they surely couldn’t be that lucky. even in a place like this, alexandria ----- where they all have shelter and food and water. eventually that had to give too, right? abraham’s gone. glenn’s gone. ----- those words scream on a loop in her head, and so desperately, she wants to let them out. she wants to remind spencer that without them, it’s not supposed to get better. for someone who had worked so hard to be independent, to find so many ways that she could take care of herself and wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else, she sure hated this idea of loss, the idea that the people she did rely on were now gone, only to make her feel so LOST.
❝ it won’t. it can’t. ❞ not until she does something about it ------ even if that means her own life is at risk, too.
spencer is good. in her heart, she knows that. but in her mind, she wants to tell him to leave her alone, that the two of them are wasting their time even trying to be whatever they are. he is good, and her heart knows it, but he can’t rid her of this devastating ache, and for that, she resents him for it. it’s unfair, because it’s not his responsibility to do so ----- and that’s what hurts her the most. it’s the SHE can’t take care of herself, either. she can only feel herself getting farther and farther away from the person she wanted to be.
she doesn’t move as he reaches out. she wants to, wants to tell her body to shrug him off ------ but that’s not going to make her feel better. this soft touch, this gentleness that spencer has in him, that’s what she needs right now, even if she won’t admit it to him or herself. so instead of shrugging him off like her head tells her, she remains still, desperately waiting for this simple touch to warm her. she doesn’t give into it; doesn’t return the gesture, doesn’t give him any sort of sign that it’s helping ----- but it just might.
it’s not until he speaks again that she makes a movement, head finally tilting to look up at him as she lets out a scoff. ❝ really? ❞ he’s being sweet, kind, and maybe he even means it, but she can’t accept it that easily. ❝ you think that’s what i want? to let it all out on you like i ain’t got nothin’ to be pissed about? ❞ maybe she deserves this pain, that’s what she keeps telling herself. ❝ like hell you do. you’ve got no idea what i deserve and what i don’t. and i don’t need you protectin’ me. i can take care of myself. ❞ yet maybe, her actions contradict her words, because she’s still desperately hoping he doesn’t move away his hand for fear that it will make her entire body feel cold and empty.
continued ╱ @gutspilt
