#enduredlure

meme.accepting.

                                     there was a smile there, small and unobtrusive to the wrap of his lips over softly returned words, that settled upon charles' features at abigail's revelation. he enjoyed getting to know a person, and the precious moments when they decided to let tiny, -- SEEMINGLY UNIMPORTANT, -- pieces of themselves slip through. charles had never been a writer, not in the literary sense, but he had always been a reader.

She tilts her head, and perhaps there is a very cold sheen to her eyes. Maybe they're glacial, impossibly frigid. Her jaw sets in a sharp click that resonates in her ears. She breathes in, deep, and her hands curl into fists.

Alana watches her, listens, and at the word 'fail' her bright blue eyes drop sharply to the floor. No. It's a hard word to hear. She shakes her head against it, insistent.

"It wasn't your responsibility to keep above ground," Alana begins, and her chest feels immeasurably tight, "it was my responsibility as your therapist, and as your responsible adult of sound mind. I was supposed to be sure you were kept safe, and no further harm befell you."

r u having feelings, friend?