Lucy's the one crying now, silently, as she pulls Mary close.
She wants it different.
She wants to be alive. She wants Mary to be family, to be sister or niece (or daughter, and she's tried so hard to never think that) and to be able to keep Mary with her always. She wants to not go back to the bar, and she wants to stay forever in it, and she wants to leave now.
And mostly she wants it different.
And want's never changed anything.
(And with the want is guilt; what right did she ever have to Mary Lennox's love?)
"Thank you," is what she whispers through her tears, and, "I'm sorry," she whispers too and loves with all she is.
no subject
She wants it different.
She wants to be alive. She wants Mary to be family, to be sister or niece (or daughter, and she's tried so hard to never think that) and to be able to keep Mary with her always. She wants to not go back to the bar, and she wants to stay forever in it, and she wants to leave now.
And mostly she wants it different.
And want's never changed anything.
(And with the want is guilt; what right did she ever have to Mary Lennox's love?)
"Thank you," is what she whispers through her tears, and, "I'm sorry," she whispers too and loves with all she is.