Tea is better. Their company is better; Gwenaëlle rests her cheek against Kieran's hair and breathes out, supposes that jagged is precisely how she feels right now. Like a part of her she didn't know she needed was cut haphazardly away from her, withou care for the wound, or how she's to bind it. What does she do? How does she grieve a loss that isn't supposed to be hers?
"I'm terrible company," she apologises quietly. It feels like she's finally stopped holding her breath, even if it isn't quite the release she needs.
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Tea is better. Their company is better; Gwenaëlle rests her cheek against Kieran's hair and breathes out, supposes that jagged is precisely how she feels right now. Like a part of her she didn't know she needed was cut haphazardly away from her, withou care for the wound, or how she's to bind it. What does she do? How does she grieve a loss that isn't supposed to be hers?
"I'm terrible company," she apologises quietly. It feels like she's finally stopped holding her breath, even if it isn't quite the release she needs.