@lakewoodthird —— SAM’S SENDING ME MEMES.
she hasn’t moved in hours. in fact, it had taken her quite a few to even find her voice ( figuratively, of course, because she hadn’t called but rather texted him with trembling fingers ) to tell him what happened and ask him to come to her. she’d known it was coming and yet she hadn’t been prepared for it. somehow, she thought she’d be there, that she wouldn’t have to hear it from someone else. she’d thought it would all be different somehow, but the soul-crushing weight of it is proof enough that everything has come crashing down in a way she hadn’t expected.
she hasn’t managed to tell him yet that it was the first thing out of her dad’s mouth when she got home from school, that she’s never seen him cry like that. she hasn’t managed to tell him that she’d held it together for her dad— that she’d actually PRAYED WITH HIM for her mother’s entrance into heaven— before coming to her room and breaking down. she hasn’t managed to tell him that she keeps wishing she’d been there, that being at school had been the least important thing she could imagine. all she’s managed to tell him is that she needs him, and everything else has been gut-wrenching sobs.
as soon as he’d arrived she’d pressed herself tightly against him, face instantly finding his chest. tears soaked through his shirt and eyeliner stained it, but she did not move. now she’s still there, cradled into his side, and although her cries have softened, they have not ceased.
noah’s never seen her cry like this, either.
his words are comforting even though she already knows he’s got her, and she gives a silent, weak nod as she shifts closer, pressing her face into the side of his neck. it feels stupid that she keeps thinking it, but it really is something sinister that snatches someone away from you even though there’s already a murderer on the loose.
