That's soothed the back of her mind, filed off some of the rough and jagged edges. But the fact remains that she's smaller than everything she faces. In the end, there's so much out of her control.
Knowing what Greg had done . . . that had only reminded her of it -- sheared off what had been smooth until it bit and cut again.
But in the end . . . she can't deny him what he's done. Wouldn't she have done it too, grasping at any straw she could manage? She can give him a little of the blame for the fear, the panic he caused . . . but it was also obviously unknowing -- an act of desperation.
And she understands desperation.
She listens to Greg quietly with an ear -- distant, but listening. He's not wrong, and she appreciates it. It's just . . . not how she's used to fighting, and it's hard to rectify that in her mind.
"Need it more?"
The implicit question is "how." She's looking for something to grasp onto, however small.
no subject
That's soothed the back of her mind, filed off some of the rough and jagged edges. But the fact remains that she's smaller than everything she faces. In the end, there's so much out of her control.
Knowing what Greg had done . . . that had only reminded her of it -- sheared off what had been smooth until it bit and cut again.
But in the end . . . she can't deny him what he's done. Wouldn't she have done it too, grasping at any straw she could manage? She can give him a little of the blame for the fear, the panic he caused . . . but it was also obviously unknowing -- an act of desperation.
And she understands desperation.
She listens to Greg quietly with an ear -- distant, but listening. He's not wrong, and she appreciates it. It's just . . . not how she's used to fighting, and it's hard to rectify that in her mind.
"Need it more?"
The implicit question is "how." She's looking for something to grasp onto, however small.