⟪ she knows him –– this part of him. he'll vent about the kids sometimes, and god, so does she – they're a handful, each and every one of them. but it's venting, and under all that is a deep, genuine love for each of the youths that pass through the doors of the centre, no matter how fucked up (or eager to fuck someone else up) they might be.
all that said, though, she can take a hint. there's a considerable silence between her words and his, and while she's not pretending that everything's fine, she wonders if she's really bringing that across by not addressing any of it at all. does she want to address it? the wish to leave him privacy, to give him time and space and whatever else he needs, is battling with her own wish to know. perhaps it's a need, even, the necessity of communication between two people who... who'll be like this, for a while. maybe for all the while she possibly has to give, if anyone asked her how she feels about him.
she doesn't want to prod, hell knows she'd needed her own sweet time before she could talk to boris about some of her life. pushing doesn't build trust. but leaving him sitting there, maybe feeling as if she's feigning normalcy, probably doesn't build much of anything, either.
that, she dwells on, as she mixes together the batter for the pancakes in silence. then: ⟫
You know I'm not... upset about you taking time and space when you need it, right?
no subject
⟪ she knows him –– this part of him. he'll vent about the kids sometimes, and god, so does she – they're a handful, each and every one of them. but it's venting, and under all that is a deep, genuine love for each of the youths that pass through the doors of the centre, no matter how fucked up (or eager to fuck someone else up) they might be.
all that said, though, she can take a hint. there's a considerable silence between her words and his, and while she's not pretending that everything's fine, she wonders if she's really bringing that across by not addressing any of it at all. does she want to address it? the wish to leave him privacy, to give him time and space and whatever else he needs, is battling with her own wish to know. perhaps it's a need, even, the necessity of communication between two people who... who'll be like this, for a while. maybe for all the while she possibly has to give, if anyone asked her how she feels about him.
she doesn't want to prod, hell knows she'd needed her own sweet time before she could talk to boris about some of her life. pushing doesn't build trust. but leaving him sitting there, maybe feeling as if she's feigning normalcy, probably doesn't build much of anything, either.
that, she dwells on, as she mixes together the batter for the pancakes in silence. then: ⟫
You know I'm not... upset about you taking time and space when you need it, right?