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[carol holds him for a few moments more, and it does nothing to stop the roiling in her gut, the tightness in her chest, if anything it makes them worse, but this is still better -- better than not being able to, stopping herself every time she feels the urge to comfort him (comfort her).
then she rubs his back, gives him a final squeeze, and -- gives him another one of those useless kisses, to the side of his head, this time.
she loves him, is the thing. carol loves fiercely and enduringly and often, is powerless to stop herself, and it's never been this hard before, but there it is.
she draws back, lets him go, looking at the ground at his feet.]
Sorry.
then she rubs his back, gives him a final squeeze, and -- gives him another one of those useless kisses, to the side of his head, this time.
she loves him, is the thing. carol loves fiercely and enduringly and often, is powerless to stop herself, and it's never been this hard before, but there it is.
she draws back, lets him go, looking at the ground at his feet.]
Sorry.
[the kiss to the side of his head rattles that place it had before, but not as strongly (he's not as broken-open receptive, all his armor still up, and the signal doesn't transmit). the line of his mouth turns down, into that unappealing scowl -- he's sick to fucking death of hearing that, of I'm sorry]
[swamp green eye pinning the outline of her to the space before him, like a scientist's dissection table, he snaps]
For fuckin' what? What're you so goddamn sorry about? What is your fucking problem, already?
[swamp green eye pinning the outline of her to the space before him, like a scientist's dissection table, he snaps]
For fuckin' what? What're you so goddamn sorry about? What is your fucking problem, already?
[it stings, the way he looks at her, the way he talks to her, but it's only a surface sting, no worse than at any other time the two of them have butted heads. the thing that really hurts carol in all of this is herself, because she knows her apologies are no good, but if she can't help him then what else does she have but apologies?]
I'm sorry about everything, okay?
[her voice is still small, frustrated, she's still not meeting his eye.]
How I can't ever seem to do right by you, how I'm always screwing everything up. How I can't do anything to help you, or stop you getting hurt. I know you don't want any of that but I still hate it, and I'm sorry, and I'm always gonna be sorry.
I'm sorry about everything, okay?
[her voice is still small, frustrated, she's still not meeting his eye.]
How I can't ever seem to do right by you, how I'm always screwing everything up. How I can't do anything to help you, or stop you getting hurt. I know you don't want any of that but I still hate it, and I'm sorry, and I'm always gonna be sorry.
Edited 2013-09-21 02:10 (UTC)
Ya were already sorry about that shit. Ya ain't needed ta say it before now.
[he's not stupid; he's been seeing the stress lines at her mouth, the tired eyes, the ham-fisted attempts at calming both his and her own anxieties, for weeks now]
[the question isn't really what is it, because he's known it for some time. the question is, what changed?]
[pretty blond hair and petite hands surface in his mind]
What did she say ta you.
[he's not stupid; he's been seeing the stress lines at her mouth, the tired eyes, the ham-fisted attempts at calming both his and her own anxieties, for weeks now]
[the question isn't really what is it, because he's known it for some time. the question is, what changed?]
[pretty blond hair and petite hands surface in his mind]
What did she say ta you.
Edited 2013-09-21 04:22 (UTC)
Page 88 of 156
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Page 88 of 156