[ it'd already been a hard enough hit to lose kai, something she'd never actually pictured happening, even if living in the apocalypse teaches you not to get too attached to anything at all, but she doesn't want to imagine what losing dana might be like. returning back had been different, because her memories had distorted into a strange dreamlike haze, convincing her that there was a chance it had all been in her head. but being here now, the loss of her one friend hits her hard, reinforcing the sharp-cutting reality, and she knows if she were to lose dana too, it'd be too much to face.
for all that she's acted tough, pretended to stop feeling, she's never been strong enough to deal with loss. losing mack and lucy was hard enough. she didn't want to lose her friends here, too.
though she'd decided to accept the way things had changed between she and dana, the warm press of her body, the comfort of those steady hands, takes her back a little to a time in which she'd felt the world in these arms. it's different now, but — she still feels for her, still needs her, even in the way of a friend.
weeping softly, she finally lets tears go, ones in which she hasn't allowed to fall in years, not even when she'd felt the loss of lucy in her bones. when she cries now, it's not only for kai, but for everything that's shaken her that she's tried so hard to ignore. she nuzzles her face against dana's shoulder and selfishly mutters, ] Please don't ever disappear.
[ she's no stranger to losing people — not now, not after that fateful weekend that had changed her life forever before she'd been plucked up from certain death and woken up in this town instead — but it does feel like a crueler pill to swallow, getting close enough to people and then having them snatched away without warning, waking up one day to find them gone completely. she knows she has to be grateful for the fact that she hasn't lost everyone, that there are still a few people for her to lean on if she needs to, but right now, she's letting herself feel the pain of these losses, letting herself grieve them with addy too, knowing she feels the same way.
she can't remember the last time she held addy like this, close enough to press her nose against the crown of deep red hair and breathe her in — and if she does it now, selfishly, it's because she's always been comforted by this, by soft strands threading between her fingertips. it's impossible not to have a fleeting, distant reminder of her hands stroking lightly through this hair a long time ago, a threading grip that had guided soft lips to her own, but she tries to shove down what it dredges up for her in the way of feeling anything else because she knows addy needs the comfort as much as she does. ]
I won't. [ she can't make that promise, can she? she can't guarantee that this strange place won't decide to give her up too, but if it does happen it won't be her choice. and maybe that's what she has to fall back on, that she would never willingly leave.
her fingers sweep long hair back from addy's neck, thumb gently stroking against the soft skin of her nape, and she presses her cheek against addy's head, breathing a soft sigh, wet tracks on her own face. she doesn't even remember starting to cry and yet it's already happened. ] I... I can stay over tonight? [ if this reasserts anything in her mind it's that addy shouldn't be by herself in this house right now. ]
[ it's a selfish thing to ask. not only because she has no right to, but because she knows it's not something that anyone can promise. kai hadn't disappeared because he wanted to, and neither had mack or lucy in her own world — no one chooses to just leave like that, not always, and she knows she has no right to ask anyone to ever just stay with her. life doesn't work that way, especially not with a life like her own.
but what she also knows is that despite what she'd given up with dana, what she had presumed wouldn't be possible long before she'd left back to her world for three years, what she reminded herself when she ultimately returned and saw the girl again — is that there's still a corner of her own heart still specifically reserved for the redhead who'd once taken a piece of it. that even if she'd given up the chance at something more, once believing she didn't have enough to offer, it would be fine, just as long as she could keep her in her life somehow.
clutching tight to her now, addy reminds that feeling so vividly, and she wonders if all her tears are for kai or if some part of it is for a different kind of loss she thought she'd forgotten.
and still, she's selfish, selfish for the closeness she earns in her sadness, for dana's lips on her hair and the warmth of her embrace, and maybe it's enough of something, safe enough without crossing boundaries that can't be crossed again. maybe she can be selfish to just have this much again. ]
Yeah. [ she answers quietly, giving a slight nod as to not shift them too much, maintaining the hold as she sniffles. ] Can you?
[ they both know the reality of making a promise like that, that it's wishful thinking at best, but in the moment she's not going to point it out, and she's not going to shatter the hope that addy's still clinging to if she can help it. that isn't what she's here for, and so even after she voices that assurance out loud she doesn't dwell on whether or not she'll be able to keep it. it's just what addy needs to hear from her right now, so there's no hesitance from her in saying it.
and she won't turn away the chance to be close to addy like this either, touches between them that happen without her even having to think about it — which might be dangerous all on its own, but she's not pulling away either. maybe a part of her thought she would have to keep her distance with what's happened between them, with the years that addy went back and lived before returning with all the scars that reflect that time spent away. the hair beneath her fingertips is longer, but deep down, she can still smell addy in it, feel the same comforting press of that softness against her own. ]
Of course. [ like she would've stayed even if addy had wavered at the idea, just wanting more of a confirmation that she's welcome to linger here than anything else.
all of a sudden, she feels a cold wet nose snuffling at her ankles and peers over addy's head to spot kai's puppy curiously investigating what they're up to. the chuckle that rises up out of her is a little teary, but she tips her cheek to addy's head one last time, maintaining contact between them by taking one of her hands and linking their fingers. ] You checking on us too, buddy?
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for all that she's acted tough, pretended to stop feeling, she's never been strong enough to deal with loss. losing mack and lucy was hard enough. she didn't want to lose her friends here, too.
though she'd decided to accept the way things had changed between she and dana, the warm press of her body, the comfort of those steady hands, takes her back a little to a time in which she'd felt the world in these arms. it's different now, but — she still feels for her, still needs her, even in the way of a friend.
weeping softly, she finally lets tears go, ones in which she hasn't allowed to fall in years, not even when she'd felt the loss of lucy in her bones. when she cries now, it's not only for kai, but for everything that's shaken her that she's tried so hard to ignore. she nuzzles her face against dana's shoulder and selfishly mutters, ] Please don't ever disappear.
no subject
she can't remember the last time she held addy like this, close enough to press her nose against the crown of deep red hair and breathe her in — and if she does it now, selfishly, it's because she's always been comforted by this, by soft strands threading between her fingertips. it's impossible not to have a fleeting, distant reminder of her hands stroking lightly through this hair a long time ago, a threading grip that had guided soft lips to her own, but she tries to shove down what it dredges up for her in the way of feeling anything else because she knows addy needs the comfort as much as she does. ]
I won't. [ she can't make that promise, can she? she can't guarantee that this strange place won't decide to give her up too, but if it does happen it won't be her choice. and maybe that's what she has to fall back on, that she would never willingly leave.
her fingers sweep long hair back from addy's neck, thumb gently stroking against the soft skin of her nape, and she presses her cheek against addy's head, breathing a soft sigh, wet tracks on her own face. she doesn't even remember starting to cry and yet it's already happened. ] I... I can stay over tonight? [ if this reasserts anything in her mind it's that addy shouldn't be by herself in this house right now. ]
no subject
but what she also knows is that despite what she'd given up with dana, what she had presumed wouldn't be possible long before she'd left back to her world for three years, what she reminded herself when she ultimately returned and saw the girl again — is that there's still a corner of her own heart still specifically reserved for the redhead who'd once taken a piece of it. that even if she'd given up the chance at something more, once believing she didn't have enough to offer, it would be fine, just as long as she could keep her in her life somehow.
clutching tight to her now, addy reminds that feeling so vividly, and she wonders if all her tears are for kai or if some part of it is for a different kind of loss she thought she'd forgotten.
and still, she's selfish, selfish for the closeness she earns in her sadness, for dana's lips on her hair and the warmth of her embrace, and maybe it's enough of something, safe enough without crossing boundaries that can't be crossed again. maybe she can be selfish to just have this much again. ]
Yeah. [ she answers quietly, giving a slight nod as to not shift them too much, maintaining the hold as she sniffles. ] Can you?
no subject
and she won't turn away the chance to be close to addy like this either, touches between them that happen without her even having to think about it — which might be dangerous all on its own, but she's not pulling away either. maybe a part of her thought she would have to keep her distance with what's happened between them, with the years that addy went back and lived before returning with all the scars that reflect that time spent away. the hair beneath her fingertips is longer, but deep down, she can still smell addy in it, feel the same comforting press of that softness against her own. ]
Of course. [ like she would've stayed even if addy had wavered at the idea, just wanting more of a confirmation that she's welcome to linger here than anything else.
all of a sudden, she feels a cold wet nose snuffling at her ankles and peers over addy's head to spot kai's puppy curiously investigating what they're up to. the chuckle that rises up out of her is a little teary, but she tips her cheek to addy's head one last time, maintaining contact between them by taking one of her hands and linking their fingers. ] You checking on us too, buddy?