"ReAlLy?" And there's something young in her eyes and delighted as she beams over at him.
"I'Ll TeLl YoU aNoTHer, ThEn!"
And she does. She tells him stories, as she sits by him, and the fog moves through, and if he can't remember them later except in fleeting moments it's really maybe for the best.
They're all true stories, except for the lies.
Time passes, and she's sitting with him on the bed as her dark hair
(it was red)
falls aroudn her shoulders and she finishes the last story.
The room doesn't smell quite so sour anymore. It's something fresh now, something like fresh grass and the sea and the mountains all at once, and if there's a scent for being where you have to be and it being okay--even if that place is here, even if that place is your deathbed--maybe that's the other part of the scent in the room, too, as she murmurs, "The end," and looks over at him.
"Except it never really is. That's one of the secrets I like to tell. Some I'm not supposed to just share, but. That one's okay."
no subject
"I'Ll TeLl YoU aNoTHer, ThEn!"
And she does. She tells him stories, as she sits by him, and the fog moves through, and if he can't remember them later except in fleeting moments it's really maybe for the best.
They're all true stories, except for the lies.
Time passes, and she's sitting with him on the bed as her dark hair
(it was red)
falls aroudn her shoulders and she finishes the last story.
The room doesn't smell quite so sour anymore. It's something fresh now, something like fresh grass and the sea and the mountains all at once, and if there's a scent for being where you have to be and it being okay--even if that place is here, even if that place is your deathbed--maybe that's the other part of the scent in the room, too, as she murmurs, "The end," and looks over at him.
"Except it never really is. That's one of the secrets I like to tell. Some I'm not supposed to just share, but. That one's okay."