[ The thing is, she does, and she knows it isn't fair, but she doesn't want to be fair anymore, she doesn't want to give the hive any resemblance of justice because it's not fair she doesn't get to keep Angel. Not in a purely possessive way; she just wants to keep her how she is. Herself. Unadulterated by the symbiote. Not part of something else. She wants her tangible and free.
But she knows she can't have that. She knew the answer before it was spoken. Her hands still hold on the railing, so hard it hurts, metal digging into her skin. Her face still pressed to her neck and she holds her breath because she doesn't even trust herself to breathe anymore. ]
I can't.
[ And from her voice, she can't hide the sob that comes with it. She is alone and she will always be, because that is the way it has to be (the way she has made it be). It is the only way to fight, to keep the will of the self, to hold on so adamantly to all her ideals and memories and she doesn't want to forget any name, any detail-- any part of Angel either.
It doesn't make a difference how hard she closes her eyes because the tears push through anyway. She never cries. Not often, not as much as she should, but it's too much. All of the immensity of it. She keeps her face against Angel even if she leans back. Why does it have to be her to go? Why is it always the people she needs that have to go?
What a selfish thing it is to think like that. But she is so tired of letting go. It hurts so much, every time. ]
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But she knows she can't have that. She knew the answer before it was spoken. Her hands still hold on the railing, so hard it hurts, metal digging into her skin. Her face still pressed to her neck and she holds her breath because she doesn't even trust herself to breathe anymore. ]
I can't.
[ And from her voice, she can't hide the sob that comes with it. She is alone and she will always be, because that is the way it has to be (the way she has made it be). It is the only way to fight, to keep the will of the self, to hold on so adamantly to all her ideals and memories and she doesn't want to forget any name, any detail-- any part of Angel either.
It doesn't make a difference how hard she closes her eyes because the tears push through anyway. She never cries. Not often, not as much as she should, but it's too much. All of the immensity of it. She keeps her face against Angel even if she leans back. Why does it have to be her to go? Why is it always the people she needs that have to go?
What a selfish thing it is to think like that. But she is so tired of letting go. It hurts so much, every time. ]
Why won't you ever choose me?