@fogleader said: do you want to talk about it? /Miss Lisa We Love You 🥺/
she must look awfully childish, hugging her knees to her chest--rips in stockings, blisters at the ankles-- distance to soft blues as she watches the fire curl and dance. she hadn’t even heard him approaching her side--perhaps too far gone in a daydream about a cloudless summer day, the kind to spend on a park bench somewhere far away. rapid blink, all running makeup and watery smile when she turns to him--a subtle, practiced motion where she dabs at her eyes. “oh-- i’m--i didn’t mean to worry you.” turns up the brightness on her smile just a touch ( you hate to trouble him ), straightens just a little as she regards kind face of a friend. “just--just a difficult day, you know?”
you know he feels sorry for you in these moments-- too frightened to face the monsters, a weak rabbit-hearted thing caught in the snares. maybe they all do--maybe they all think you a liability in this place, and are only too kind to say. she’s sure he knows what’s on her mind, anyway--so often the one to find her hiding among the debris. “i... i just wish i wasn’t so frightened all the time. how do you stand it all?” doe eyes meet his again, and it is impossible not to see him wreathed in his good deeds--has always struck her as someone you might name a church after, or someone to meet you in the darkest place--when you were praying for something to save you. to her, he was always that sort of tethering thing, red thread in the depths of the minotaur’s labyrinth, ( go forward, always forward--you remember this story. )
instinctive, as though to banish her thoughts-- hands come to hover between them, ready to fuss with the minute imperfections of a dirtied dress shirt; “oh, look at you. i should ask you the same.” note of humour as delicate touch straightens his tie, comes up to move a few hairs back in place, off his forehead. hand lowers slow and careful, quiet for some time. “...will you sit with me, for a little while?”