[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]she's trailing behind him, as if she doesn't want to see the reaction he's currently having. and maybe if she were beside him she'd see the tears. instead, she's oblivious as she always is and that makes it a little worse.

she'll try to explain but it'll fall short. it always will.

"no," she murmurs. "using people is easy. it's feelings that aren't." does that explain it well enough? probably not. he wouldn't understand and she can't make enough sense of it herself to even bother trying to get him to see her side. there's no point. it's a lost cause riddled with mistakes she's made.

he's right, that much she knows. she would've kept using him over and over until she grew bored. or until he put a stop to it. but knowing what she knows now? he wouldn't have and she would've made a bigger mess of his heart than she already has.

"i guess i would have." there's no denying it, not now. dealt cards are being turned face up on the table, hands revealed. it's funny, she's good at poker but with this? her hand will always come up short of winning.

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]"i don't know," she's getting a little frustrated by now. it's too much information to give out, too much insight for her to want to indulge in. and she doesn't even get them in the first place. it's a confusing mess that she refuses to sort out. instead she'd merely shove them down, drown them with the next bottle of liquor she finds. healthy, g. hella healthy.

"i like you," she murmurs, watching as fewer cars drift by them. the wind is picking up by now, whipping her hair into a frenzy. she doesn't bother to smooth it back, instead letting it run rampant like whatever emotions she might have. "just not in the way you want me to."

foot, meet mouth.

it sounds worse now that she's breathing it into the spaces between them. worse and somehow more difficult to admit. she still tries, though, if only because she doesn't want to release the grip she has on him. not yet, not now, and definitely not in this way. gia, you're an asshole. "i don't get it. not really, anyway. i just kept coming back." gee, wonder why?

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]she's never felt more like a child than in this moment. standing there, uncertain, confused in the glow of streetlights. she almost looks younger, like the teenager she never had the chance to be. and maybe that's why she stays silent when he turns to face her, when he asks the question she doesn't want to answer.

her eyes dart without permission, as if looking for a way out. an escape, something she's always used to mapping out in any situation. and every fiber in her body wants nothing more than to run away from this. it's her mind that keeps her there, that roots her into place. feet become cement, another part of the sidewalk.

"i don't know," she offers honesty but it's still not exactly what she wants to say. she knows what she wants, knows what the point in this was but saying it? that's a whole different situation, one she's not prepared for. another sigh escapes and she's testing her luck by stepping closer to him. her eyes try to find his as she murmurs, as she says words that she might not mean tomorrow. they're tinged in alcohol and something almost touching on desperation. "you, i guess."

the game, the chase, the thrill all remain left unspoken but he'll see the meanings anyway. and maybe it'll sting more when he denies her.

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]implications are laid out because of her and her need for whatever this is. and while they might not be accurate, it's enough to keep them rooted in place. him out of hope, out of longing. and her? out of desperation. she doesn't want to lose this. not yet. it's a game she wants to continue and maybe he's unwilling to play games anymore but she's not.

her frustrations are getting the better of her, though. it's easy to tell that she's shifting into annoyance and quickly. the way her lips twist into a mild scowl, the way she lets a soft growl slip.

"i can't," she retorts and her arms cross over her chest. ever the difficult one, it seems. "it's not that fucking simple." she's not that simple. she's a mess of complications and issues that she'll never sort out because that'd mean becoming something else and she's comfortable with how she is now. besides, feelings are terrifying and she doesn't want them. there's always ways to get hurt and even more ways to hurt someone but to be on the receiving end of her own medicine? no fucking thank you.

a sigh escapes and her shoulders deflate as if she's coming around to accepting defeat. "i can't," she repeats, softer this time. there's a lot she can't do but it always seems to come back to the same thing.

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]he's asking questions which, really, is to be expected from him but she has no answers to give. instead, she settles into silence for the dozenth time this evening and her shoulders rise and fall in the form of a shrug. she doesn't know why not, wouldn't even know where to begin looking for the right answer.

but maybe she doesn't have to.

he steps closer, distance lessening until his hand is reaching for hers. there's hesitation in her, in the way her hand lingers by her side for a moment too long. and then, she's completing the connection, intertwining fingers like it's what's expected of her. and maybe it is or maybe she actually wants this. who knows, she doesn't.

"i -- i don't know," she gives more honesty where he expects something more. is she capable of trying? of putting effort into something real, something that isn't just another game of cat and mouse? perhaps and perhaps not.

and even if she does, it might never be close to what he wants, not in the way he wants it. she has a long way to go before she's ready for that and even longer before she comes around to accepting it.

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]she's frozen into this moment, this connection. it's difficult to sever the tether between them and maybe she doesn't even want to. it's hard to tell, however, and she's lost in something she can't understand.

and he's pleading and she's quiet, uncertain, confused. can she even say no? probably not. does she even want to? undecided.

his hand squeezes hers and her eyes drift down to the connection, to their intertwined fingers and the implications that come with them. it's not simple and she doesn't even know if she can try. not like he wants, not like he needs.

"i," she has to stop to clear her throat, to unstick words from the walls so they can breathe life into her thoughts. "i'm making no promises." it's not a no, not yet anyway. halfway between maybe and we'll see, perhaps. and maybe that's enough for her but will it be enough for him?

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]is she even really trying, though? something wants to say yes but she snuffs it out. instead, she stares at his smile, at the way it forms a little too easily. she could try to mirror it and she even does but it doesn't feel the same. it doesn't have the same intentions behind it and it's almost a little painful.

"okay," is all she manages to get out before he's shifting closer. and where she might expect something spicier because that's the only thing she can really offer anyone, it turns out different. an embrace, warm and comforting. her body melts into his against her mind yelling at her that she isn't made for this. she's never been made for softness, only to bare her teeth and make the ground weak.

and really, a small voice in the back of her mind tells her that this is nice. that she's been craving this, that this is everything she wanted as a young girl. and it takes everything in her to ignore that, to ignore the way everything calms against him. instead, she stays slightly still, eventually bringing her arms up to settle at his back. she offers no words, no movement, nothing. just herself in this embrace and maybe that's enough.

Finley Black