Spoilers: The Eye
Summary: A little missing PoV for that bit in The Eye.
A/N: Written in my spare time between essays and random (my mind keeps
going back to the storm/the eye or to seige part 2 recently...) and
short and angsty. Not betaread but hopefully you'll all enjoy it anyway.
They don't mean anything, and yet they are my world this moment.
They mean everything and I have to say them if it's the last thing I do, because I'm thinking it may well be.
Just little fluffy bumbling words I'm bound to say clumsily. Words; you can pick to bits, syllables in order, origins of constituent parts and all that.
But that's not it, is it?
they weren't there on the tip of my tongue, finally thought, the
realisation ingrained on my brain. I don't want them to be there,
don't want them to be true.
Like I didn't want that rising fear when the gun was pointed at her.
And just like then, I hate it. For being and for feeling and then for panicking, but I still did what I had to. It's sort of the same now, don't want to know it, don't want to feel it but I can't deny it and I need to say.
So I try.
Try so hard, two times I get up the nerve. Each time she tells me not
Does she know? Does she understand? Or does she simply know why, that I'm afraid and I have my last confessions to spill.
She knows something but she doesn't know what I'm sure, how can she?
silence is broken; I try again.
Try futilely because she won't let me – eyes blaring, as if on the verge of tears that would go unseen in the rain.
And I give up. I don't know why she denies but the moment is gone and I get on with fixing everything; the glasshouse shattered, the lines lost. I forget, letting it slip back down and under years of turmoil and I'm sure I'll never know what exactly I wanted to say today.
It's better that way I'm sure. Because it was just a passing moment, thoughts not processed, foolish and better ignored. She did me a favour. I won't forget that.