@illwriteatragedy
after everything –– after the truth comes out, and he knows more about her than he did before, and she knows more about him than she did before –– she knows that things are going to change in ways neither of them can wholly control. her first reaction, as it always is, is to drop away, disappear, cut the ties that bind them, but that isn’t –– possible, is it? not with everything he knows about her now, and everything he’d learned about her before. it leaves a sharp, trapped feeling clawing at her ribs, but roman couldn’t –– roman wouldn’t –– roman isn’t like that, is he? she’s never thought of him that way, but he’s kept secrets from her in the same way she’s kept secrets from him. when it comes down to it, she doesn’t know what roman might do.
they take some time apart, expectedly. the text that comes from him a couple of weeks later isn’t, and her agreement even more so. but here she is, sitting in a coffee shop that’s closer to his apartment than hers, waiting for him. when the bell above the door dings, she looks up, watches him wind through tables to where she is in the back.
“so,” it’s difficult, still, to be upset with him; it’s difficult, still, to not reach out and touch the back of his hands. “–– you wanted to talk?”