So you're alone again. Good job, Hale Ogygia.
Yeah. That's what I wanted. I think. Yes.
I very pointedly don't look over at Silas and Finn. I don't know why the fuck they're still here at all. I've done enough.
I bury my face in my arms. God, I'm a fucking idiot.
Come on, it isn't that bad. You know they'll forgive you. They already do.
Nobody sits and waits for someone they don't trust.
I don't want them to. I'm fucking sick of this. I'm tired of being afraid and I'm fucking tired of lashing out and I know I'm gonna keep doing it anyway because that's what I DO and I'm fucking SICK of caring about people because it fucking HURTS. I don't want this. I don't deserve it.
Don't deserve what? Love? That isn't fair. Caring is supposed to hurt sometimes.
I don't know.
I don't know anything.
I just want to fight. It's the only thing I'm good at.
You might think that, but you're wrong. Try practicing something you don't think you're any good at sometime.
Try holding his hand. That can't be too hard.
Of course that would be fucking hard. Why would I do that? I just yelled at him. Them. Both of them.
Then apologize first.
Yeah.
I don't even fucking know why I'm scared.
Something as simple as "sorry" can be scarier than any battle. But, if you can do that, then you can do this.
You're a lot fucking nicer than usual.
I try to be subtle. I only hope you take my advice to heart.
Good morning, by the way.
Look down.
I look down, I fucking suppose.
Below stirs in the water a creature. It looks huge, clearly, slowly drifting in a circle. Two glowing antennae, paddles like a sea turtle, and a mass of tentacles behind to propel it. It's the thing that Etoile carried right over your head yesterday.
Yeah, no, I can't do this. I file this away under shit to deal with later, say nothing else, and walk away.