...I should have asked on Sunday or sometime during the week, but - I didn't want to press you or talk about something you didn't want to. So you don't have to answer, but...
After last weekend... I can't even imagine. How are you holding up?
[moving over to carefully put a hand on hers, if she'll allow it.]
We wouldn't have to talk about it if it's just going to be painful for you, but... I promise I wouldn't have asked if I couldn't take the honest answer. You don't need to be fine after everything that's happened to you.
[she will. Her eyes flick to his when he does it, but she returns her gaze to the counter shortly. It's just easier not to look him in the eyes for this.]
...Sometimes, I am.
Others...I do get very frustrated. With all the kindness given to me. It feels slimy almost, to receive all this love and affection when I know it's something she can see. That she might think people don't care about what I did to her.
And more than that, I don't feel like there's anything I can say or do that would actually make it okay. To pay for what I did. Because I'm not paying for it. Not even slightly.
I just get to be here, and go about my day like everything is normal, and everyone pats me on the back and tells me it'll be okay, but I remember now what it felt like. Shooting at her. Cracking the bones in her face...the sounds she made. The way she looked when she realized what I was about to do. That it was me who was going to do it.
[she looks away, but he keeps his eyes on her as she talks, letting her get through all that.]
Well... I think people care what happened to her and still know it wasn't your fault. And I don't think you should need to pay for something that you never would have done if you weren't forced into it.
[he knows that guilt isn't that easy to get rid of with logic, though. some things don't go away that easily.]
I know it hurts a lot, though. And that might not change in a really long time. I don't want you to feel pressured to try and force yourself to seem okay if you're not. But for what it's worth, Rosamund... I'm glad you're here to go about your days with us, whatever they look like.
[Her head ducks down. A few of her curls fall forward, obfuscating her face.]
...I'm grateful too. To have friends like you.
[forgive her if there's a quiver to her voice. She only wants to speak honestly. It's hard to do so and keep herself together.]
And I know...if it were anyone else, I'd be saying the same things. There's just nothing that will make these stones in my gut wash away. Maybe they will, someday. When enough time has passed. Or if I get to see her again, and say...
[She bites her lip. Shakes her head, and finally chances looking at him. Her eyes are heavy. One tear slips loose, and she bats it away with her too-delicate fingers.]
But thank you. Really. Because I'm not always okay, and sometimes it feels like if I say so it's just going to ruin everything for everyone else, and all I want — I just really, really want to do right by them all.
It feels different when it's something you've had to experience yourself, instead of only watching someone else do it. I understand.
[in an ideal world, she wouldn't look on herself more unkindly than she does others, but - he can't say he can blame her. he knows what that's like; it's a natural feeling.]
...I think it's really brave to be able to say something like that, actually, instead of pretending everything is fine. I bet other people wouldn't mind you being comfortable saying how you actually feel.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[takes a seat near her]
Actually, Rosamund, can I ask you something?
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Yes? What is it?
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After last weekend... I can't even imagine. How are you holding up?
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[She turns her head back to the drink. Smiling, but a bit distantly now.]
It's...fine. I have to keep going no matter what, don't I? And tomorrow someone else might be in the very same boat as me.
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[moving over to carefully put a hand on hers, if she'll allow it.]
We wouldn't have to talk about it if it's just going to be painful for you, but... I promise I wouldn't have asked if I couldn't take the honest answer. You don't need to be fine after everything that's happened to you.
no subject
...Sometimes, I am.
Others...I do get very frustrated. With all the kindness given to me. It feels slimy almost, to receive all this love and affection when I know it's something she can see. That she might think people don't care about what I did to her.
And more than that, I don't feel like there's anything I can say or do that would actually make it okay. To pay for what I did. Because I'm not paying for it. Not even slightly.
I just get to be here, and go about my day like everything is normal, and everyone pats me on the back and tells me it'll be okay, but I remember now what it felt like. Shooting at her. Cracking the bones in her face...the sounds she made. The way she looked when she realized what I was about to do. That it was me who was going to do it.
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Well... I think people care what happened to her and still know it wasn't your fault. And I don't think you should need to pay for something that you never would have done if you weren't forced into it.
[he knows that guilt isn't that easy to get rid of with logic, though. some things don't go away that easily.]
I know it hurts a lot, though. And that might not change in a really long time. I don't want you to feel pressured to try and force yourself to seem okay if you're not. But for what it's worth, Rosamund... I'm glad you're here to go about your days with us, whatever they look like.
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...I'm grateful too. To have friends like you.
[forgive her if there's a quiver to her voice. She only wants to speak honestly. It's hard to do so and keep herself together.]
And I know...if it were anyone else, I'd be saying the same things. There's just nothing that will make these stones in my gut wash away. Maybe they will, someday. When enough time has passed. Or if I get to see her again, and say...
[She bites her lip. Shakes her head, and finally chances looking at him. Her eyes are heavy. One tear slips loose, and she bats it away with her too-delicate fingers.]
But thank you. Really. Because I'm not always okay, and sometimes it feels like if I say so it's just going to ruin everything for everyone else, and all I want — I just really, really want to do right by them all.
no subject
[in an ideal world, she wouldn't look on herself more unkindly than she does others, but - he can't say he can blame her. he knows what that's like; it's a natural feeling.]
...I think it's really brave to be able to say something like that, actually, instead of pretending everything is fine. I bet other people wouldn't mind you being comfortable saying how you actually feel.