[ The anxiety practically makes him vibrate. His words get stuck somewhere along the way out. In his brain or in his throat or tying up his tongue. Her lips press together to form a thin, sympathetic line. His mental pot is boiling over. Trench can be a bitch to cope with, especially when you don't cope and just stuff one tragedy or horror on top of the other. She squeezes his arm. ] I know. [ Empathetic & firm. ] It's easier to just... [ A shaking sigh ] swallow it than it is to deal with it. I-I get it. I do the same shit so... [ She shrugs. ] no judgment.
[ She pauses, lets her words sink in, and then continues. ] I didn't come over to pester you about your feelings. Or to get you to open up. [ She lifts the leather satchel under her arm and smiles at him. It's a little forced and a little awkward but she's trying. ] I brought you snacks.
HOT UNCLE SUMMER
YOUR FUTURE, HUSBAND. // FUCK YOU & FUCK UR MOTHER. // I'D RATHER BELIEVE IN NOTHING THAN BEG FOR MY FUCKING LIFE //
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Date: 2023-05-07 09:35 pm (UTC)[ She pauses, lets her words sink in, and then continues. ] I didn't come over to pester you about your feelings. Or to get you to open up. [ She lifts the leather satchel under her arm and smiles at him. It's a little forced and a little awkward but she's trying. ] I brought you snacks.