[The idea that she'll be with them again... Is a little comforting. Even if it's depressing in itself. She has, unfortunately, had to let go of the teenage notion that dying young is something beautiful and romantic. Instead, it's just tragic, raw, and empty.
She peers up at him, the grief somewhat lifted by shock, because no one's ever called her that before-- not Farrah, whose always been rough-and-tumble, whose always talked back, whose always been short of perfect. She's always thought princess-types were weird and annoying, but when he calls her that, even in this terrible moment-- her heart warms, and she thinks she understands.
There's a glint of determination there, too. She nods, firmly.]
no subject
She peers up at him, the grief somewhat lifted by shock, because no one's ever called her that before-- not Farrah, whose always been rough-and-tumble, whose always talked back, whose always been short of perfect. She's always thought princess-types were weird and annoying, but when he calls her that, even in this terrible moment-- her heart warms, and she thinks she understands.
There's a glint of determination there, too. She nods, firmly.]
We do. We will.