( The Sisters named her Faith; some things transcend the boundary of worlds, apparently. It sounds so much like his own world, where there are also Sisters and those sisters love to harp on about faith in the gods, naming a dead girl after it without the slightest understanding of the irony or the spite one might find in that is nearly laughable. It's only out of respect for her that he doesn't outright guffaw in bleak, disgusted humor.
Faith. That dead child is all she'll think about when she thinks of faith for the rest of her life. Dumb cunts.
A moment is spent debating, waffling. At length, he breaks through it to reach out and curl a hand around the curve of her shoulder. Surprisingly gentle, light despite its size and the roughness of his callouses.
It's mutual. This knowing, and the discomfort that comes with it. The knowledge is a blade that can only be wielded directly at their own hearts. He'll speak of it to nobody, and, cynical as he is, he thinks he believes the same of her. )
Let's go. There's nothing here worth staying for.
( The ghosts of their pasts don't need the company. )
no subject
Faith. That dead child is all she'll think about when she thinks of faith for the rest of her life. Dumb cunts.
A moment is spent debating, waffling. At length, he breaks through it to reach out and curl a hand around the curve of her shoulder. Surprisingly gentle, light despite its size and the roughness of his callouses.
It's mutual. This knowing, and the discomfort that comes with it. The knowledge is a blade that can only be wielded directly at their own hearts. He'll speak of it to nobody, and, cynical as he is, he thinks he believes the same of her. )
Let's go. There's nothing here worth staying for.
( The ghosts of their pasts don't need the company. )