( it surprises her how much it stings to hear him say so plainly that he knew. the others had exactly the pithy kinds of responses she would have expected, i didn't know and i'm sorry and i should have realised, even though laura has gone out of her way to make sure that that particular piece of information has stayed buried deep where no one could touch it.
except logan, apparently, who knew and didn't say anything. who let her throw his pride at her taking up the mantle — his name — back in his face with a quick dismissal, because it didn't mean the same thing to laura when she was just being congratulated on having another dead parent. or another dead 'as close to a parent as laura gets', anyway.
it doesn't surprise her how angry she is. about that, about him dying in the first place, about him dying here. it's been simmering under the surface since the beginning, scraped fresh by everything that has happened since she arrived here, and she's tried to bury it deep this past week, but it's still there. laura is so angry, and there's nowhere for it to go, so all it's done is choke her. )
None of us are meant for peace. Do you think my life became quiet because you were not in it?
( once he's done with his attempts at explanations and apologies, laura speaks. more quiet and careful each time she opens her mouth, because about all that laura is holding onto now is her restraint. she looks at his outstretched hand without taking it for the moment but steps closer all the same, hard faced when she looks at him.
laura wonders, sometimes, if when he looks at her all he can see is the girl she used to be. she feels it now, staring back at him and trying so hard to hold everything back, but she's too raw. her brows furrow just a fraction, the pinch of her mouth turned down slightly, her eyes searching for--something.
the reaction is hardly anything at all, tiny little fractures in an otherwise perfect facade, but they telegraph everything. )
I mourned you. I did not want to have to mourn you again, but you drowned, and where was I? Up in some fancy apartment block eating pizza? What is the point in me even being here if I could not stop it happening again—
( her mouth slams shut abruptly, and she turns side on again, exhaling in a shudder. she can't help thinking how much easier it would be if she could just take his hand. hug him and cry and tell him she missed him, berate him into being more careful and they could start again. but that's never been her. )
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except logan, apparently, who knew and didn't say anything. who let her throw his pride at her taking up the mantle — his name — back in his face with a quick dismissal, because it didn't mean the same thing to laura when she was just being congratulated on having another dead parent. or another dead 'as close to a parent as laura gets', anyway.
it doesn't surprise her how angry she is. about that, about him dying in the first place, about him dying here. it's been simmering under the surface since the beginning, scraped fresh by everything that has happened since she arrived here, and she's tried to bury it deep this past week, but it's still there. laura is so angry, and there's nowhere for it to go, so all it's done is choke her. )
None of us are meant for peace. Do you think my life became quiet because you were not in it?
( once he's done with his attempts at explanations and apologies, laura speaks. more quiet and careful each time she opens her mouth, because about all that laura is holding onto now is her restraint. she looks at his outstretched hand without taking it for the moment but steps closer all the same, hard faced when she looks at him.
laura wonders, sometimes, if when he looks at her all he can see is the girl she used to be. she feels it now, staring back at him and trying so hard to hold everything back, but she's too raw. her brows furrow just a fraction, the pinch of her mouth turned down slightly, her eyes searching for--something.
the reaction is hardly anything at all, tiny little fractures in an otherwise perfect facade, but they telegraph everything. )
I mourned you. I did not want to have to mourn you again, but you drowned, and where was I? Up in some fancy apartment block eating pizza? What is the point in me even being here if I could not stop it happening again—
( her mouth slams shut abruptly, and she turns side on again, exhaling in a shudder. she can't help thinking how much easier it would be if she could just take his hand. hug him and cry and tell him she missed him, berate him into being more careful and they could start again. but that's never been her. )