[ She drops her hands then, setting them flat to her side, fingers curling up sharply into her palms. Cutting little crescents. Her breath comes in sharp, not unaffected by her tears. Of course she does, she would, over and over, do anything for her. As much want to brush her lips against her cheeks, mop them up - and this is the mess, this will always be the difference between them.
No, she doesn't understand. Angel goes still, still, still, under her. Not affection, not pulling away because what can she say, really? The hot wet splash she can feel against her neck, and she fights to keep her words even. ]
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No, she doesn't understand. Angel goes still, still, still, under her. Not affection, not pulling away because what can she say, really? The hot wet splash she can feel against her neck, and she fights to keep her words even. ]
This isn't just about that, Parker.
[ It's bitten out, this, this isn't - ]
I told you, you don't know what you're asking.