He said so himself. The harder you try, the easier it is.
She doesn't know how to reorient herself. How to make her face into something less... threatened. It's fine, she thinks. It's not as literal as you're thinking. It could be— an aura or an energy. He doesn't really see—
She never imagined a simple statement could paralyze so utterly. Of course she's seen; he's got a pair of working fucking eyes and then some. But it isn't the seeing that's the problem it's the knowing. She hadn't walked into this conversation expecting to be filleted. It's fine. It's not what you're thinking.
Gerry speaks candidly about the horrors he's born within, more so than she anticipates. A mother who took his hand and lead him into her world's cacophony without first considering his own, then marrying him to it. She gropes at his every syllable to keep herself a float. Feels herself recoil from him and lean forward all at once, a horrible ebb and flow
There's a heft in her chest she'd usually address on the training floor. She's sitting at full attention. Her body wants to move.
"What an awful thing for a mother to do to her son." Carolina forces the words up her throat.
And she means it.
And she needs to know what he sees.
And she needs to walk out through the door.
To help, he says. He wants to help you. He thinks you need help. He thinks you're wrong and weak and need fixing.
"What happened to you?" Carolina asks. Because asking about him is easier than addressing herself. "To bing you here. What happened?"
no subject
He sees you.
He said so himself. The harder you try, the easier it is.
She doesn't know how to reorient herself. How to make her face into something less... threatened. It's fine, she thinks. It's not as literal as you're thinking. It could be— an aura or an energy. He doesn't really see—
She never imagined a simple statement could paralyze so utterly. Of course she's seen; he's got a pair of working fucking eyes and then some. But it isn't the seeing that's the problem it's the knowing. She hadn't walked into this conversation expecting to be filleted. It's fine. It's not what you're thinking.
Gerry speaks candidly about the horrors he's born within, more so than she anticipates. A mother who took his hand and lead him into her world's cacophony without first considering his own, then marrying him to it. She gropes at his every syllable to keep herself a float. Feels herself recoil from him and lean forward all at once, a horrible ebb and flow
There's a heft in her chest she'd usually address on the training floor. She's sitting at full attention. Her body wants to move.
"What an awful thing for a mother to do to her son." Carolina forces the words up her throat.
And she means it.
And she needs to know what he sees.
And she needs to walk out through the door.
To help, he says. He wants to help you. He thinks you need help. He thinks you're wrong and weak and need fixing.
"What happened to you?" Carolina asks. Because asking about him is easier than addressing herself. "To bing you here. What happened?"