we can just sit here, you don’t have to talk. @reporther.
ㅤmaria resents this feeling—it's seasickness, only without an ocean to dive into. they're surrounded by idle bodies instead of water, choked by coffee fumes instead of salt air. " oh, absolutely not. that's a technique your lot use, right? you encourage silence so the other person fills it and spills information to avoid awkwardness. yeah, we're not doing that. " callous words, yet maria doesn't suggest an alternate approach to their meeting. there's another likely culprit behind olivia's words, maria thinks despite herself. niceness. courtesy. simple good sense. but niceness veers a little too close to pity for maria's liking, and that's a notion that only makes her nausea swell from a wave into a riptide.
ㅤ" i'm going to talk. we can just— " silence engulfs her, the contradiction of it blistering her pride. maria sets her palms on her kneecaps, fingers gripping them tight; after a moment, the shaking in her hands somewhat subsides, and she returns them to her hot tea sitting atop the wooden battlefield between them. " —build up to the serious stuff. let's just talk about something else, first. like what could've possibly made you so late. "
