[ She moves further away and Parker feels lonelier in that moment than she ever felt before. In that fraction, there is a world between her and everything else. Between her and Angel. She tries to hold it back, keep it in, but the sniffles keep coming and she is not sure what to do with herself anymore. Hands gripping on the railing let go of it, tendon by tendon. She wants to hold on to her and burrow against her and tell her to not to go because everyone goes and it is not fair.
She doesn't push further even though that is what she wants to do. Wants to step in her and feel her scent and her warmth. But she keeps still where she is, because Angel is pulling her hands away and she can feel her want to push her off. She doesn't blame her. But she hates them so much, right then. Why do they get to keep her if they don't even want her as she is? She hates herself for wanting to keep her as she is. Angel is her own person and it is not fair to ask her for these things. But she does anyway because she can't help herself, feels like drowning in emptiness, feels like trying to hold on burning rope: against time, for it will eventually disintegrate under the flames.
She finds it in herself the strength to lean back. Tries, really tries, to look up, but can't, eyes shiny and red, pink nose and ears. Can't-- can't look at her because it hurts that she never gets to be chosen, never gets to be hers because she would rather share. Parker is not being fair, but fairness is not always right. ]
Then what?
[ She wipes, frustratedly, at her eyes, but it doesn't quite work to stop the tears. ]
Tell me why am I so wrong.
[ It doesn't matter. She doesn't want to really hear it. She knows already. She wishes for a moment that Angel would shove her away (has every right to). It would be easier that way. ]
no subject
She doesn't push further even though that is what she wants to do. Wants to step in her and feel her scent and her warmth. But she keeps still where she is, because Angel is pulling her hands away and she can feel her want to push her off. She doesn't blame her. But she hates them so much, right then. Why do they get to keep her if they don't even want her as she is? She hates herself for wanting to keep her as she is. Angel is her own person and it is not fair to ask her for these things. But she does anyway because she can't help herself, feels like drowning in emptiness, feels like trying to hold on burning rope: against time, for it will eventually disintegrate under the flames.
She finds it in herself the strength to lean back. Tries, really tries, to look up, but can't, eyes shiny and red, pink nose and ears. Can't-- can't look at her because it hurts that she never gets to be chosen, never gets to be hers because she would rather share. Parker is not being fair, but fairness is not always right. ]
Then what?
[ She wipes, frustratedly, at her eyes, but it doesn't quite work to stop the tears. ]
Tell me why am I so wrong.
[ It doesn't matter. She doesn't want to really hear it. She knows already. She wishes for a moment that Angel would shove her away (has every right to). It would be easier that way. ]