[ He doesn't want to hurt her. Doesn't want to cause her more pain than she's already dealing with. But she grounds him; feeling her, holding her hand, it keeps him from sinking. When he holds her hand, he feels like he's floating. Rising to the surface but not quite managing to break free of the waves. Maybe one day, his head will break through the waves and he can finally swim to shore.
But it's all so complicated in his head. He can't see the ending, can't see how he's supposed to get there. He thinks he can see the steps, the track laid out in front of him, but he can't see where it's going. Where will it end? Will he go home? Or will he get pushed back through the spiral door as if he never got through it at all? He does want to be saved, but he can't see how he'll ever make progress towards being saved.
Belief is hard when you don't know what you believe in anymore. ]
I just think that I should be doing more. [ That seems to be at the heart of it all. He's here to help her, but he's not sure what that looks like. ] It's fine. Yeah, it's from last night, but it's nothing.
[ It's not nothing. It hurts when he moves too quickly, breathes too rapidly... he suspects that the blow left broken bones, but he can't stand the thought of being looked at. Of being poked and prodded and examined. So he just tries to bear it and not think about it, because he's here for her. Estevez told him to look after her, and that's what he's going to do.
It's easier to just kiss her, losing himself in the feeling of her lips against his, of the taste of her... she doesn't wear chapstick or lipstick that he can tell, but how she tastes is unique. It's her. And it might be weird to even think about how she tastes, but- it's part of the experience. Part of being a writer, noting down every detail that he sees, feels, tastes... It's just how his mind works.
Kissing her distracts him from everything, from the problems he can't solve, the story he has to fight to write, the ache in his side... he just wants to hold her like this and kiss her until time runs out and they have to fall back into their respective roles again.
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But it's all so complicated in his head. He can't see the ending, can't see how he's supposed to get there. He thinks he can see the steps, the track laid out in front of him, but he can't see where it's going. Where will it end? Will he go home? Or will he get pushed back through the spiral door as if he never got through it at all? He does want to be saved, but he can't see how he'll ever make progress towards being saved.
Belief is hard when you don't know what you believe in anymore. ]
I just think that I should be doing more. [ That seems to be at the heart of it all. He's here to help her, but he's not sure what that looks like. ] It's fine. Yeah, it's from last night, but it's nothing.
[ It's not nothing. It hurts when he moves too quickly, breathes too rapidly... he suspects that the blow left broken bones, but he can't stand the thought of being looked at. Of being poked and prodded and examined. So he just tries to bear it and not think about it, because he's here for her. Estevez told him to look after her, and that's what he's going to do.
It's easier to just kiss her, losing himself in the feeling of her lips against his, of the taste of her... she doesn't wear chapstick or lipstick that he can tell, but how she tastes is unique. It's her. And it might be weird to even think about how she tastes, but- it's part of the experience. Part of being a writer, noting down every detail that he sees, feels, tastes... It's just how his mind works.
Kissing her distracts him from everything, from the problems he can't solve, the story he has to fight to write, the ache in his side... he just wants to hold her like this and kiss her until time runs out and they have to fall back into their respective roles again.
Why can't we just have this forever? ]