"it was beautiful," she says with a shake of her head. glinting metal on a mechanic's fingers. that meeting had been shadowed by a horrible grief and she mourns the loss of what could have been now, but just as quickly consoles herself - ana would have forgotten, twice over. 

but i don't forget. i can't forget. i won't forget.

"i wish i could forget sometimes. why do i hold onto the things that hurt?"

ana fell

☉

"because i want to fix things," she says, almost dreamily. is that what she does? fix things? no, no, but she only breaks them. shattered glass, thousands of shards scattered about the room, cutting her bare feet. slicing ribbons of red as she folds knees and prays to whatever twisted sycophant of fate has it out for her. 

"you're a good person, you know. this person. you." and maybe it's because freya's selfish, because she only knows the help that ana's given her. but no, no, no, it's more than that. 

it's in the way she loves this home and she loves her self and she loves freya, too - she must love freya too, right?

"you'll spruce the place up," she says. "and i'll find that ring. can we watch romcoms?"

ana fell

☉