For one minute, anything seems possible. For one minute, he's holding her and kissing her and nothing else matters. But it could never last.
He pulls away and the madness reasserts itself with a vengeance. She doesn't have Molly, she couldn't save her parents, and she can't have him. Why should she have ever hoped differently?
She looks away too, not wanting him to see her face, not wanting him to see how scared and alone she really feels. She steps away, into the dimness of the kitchen, one hand over her lips, eyes closed, sealing that one sweet moment into her memory.
He's right. She knows it. She scrubs at her eyes and takes a deep breath. (This is her fight. Hers, alone.)
She fumbles in the cupboard for glasses, and returns, sitting down at the table and letting him pour her a glass.
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He pulls away and the madness reasserts itself with a vengeance. She doesn't have Molly, she couldn't save her parents, and she can't have him. Why should she have ever hoped differently?
She looks away too, not wanting him to see her face, not wanting him to see how scared and alone she really feels. She steps away, into the dimness of the kitchen, one hand over her lips, eyes closed, sealing that one sweet moment into her memory.
He's right. She knows it. She scrubs at her eyes and takes a deep breath. (This is her fight. Hers, alone.)
She fumbles in the cupboard for glasses, and returns, sitting down at the table and letting him pour her a glass.