🌸 — “Yeah, my life before gaining the sliver of hope I have now was miserable. I never want to go back to those times but...” she pauses adjusting a sliver of pink hair, “they’ll come again. For as long as I’ve lived my hope for a world where I don’t fear existing has never once come to fruition. And at this rate it never will.”
Hollo wasn’t sure which was worse about the other’s words. The fact they synchronized closely to his own or what they said at end. Deciding to speak up, he would speak through his own. “Without hope, every day only amounts to more torment. The smallest sliver of hope can do remarkable things.” His one visible eye would fixate on the young woman in front of him.
“I do not know what you have been put through. Do not let that fear devour your hope. I already lost my hope and am conflicted about looking for another.” He wasn’t going to say for her not to fear existing. Saying as such would be tantamount to saying not to fear death, not to fear the inevitable. It’s in that certainty that fear usually stems.