"I am sorry, but I think...I want to be selfish." For once, Kyanite says in her head. "I do not want to let you go."
Promises aren't a kindness, so she won't make any she cannot keep.
"No." She shakes her head. Have some conviction. Be honest.
Want something.
"I really, really do not, so don't ask me to. Memories are legacies, they are fragile, but powerful and important and we should keep them close to our hearts, but I don't want you to be just that. I want you here with me. I want to laugh with you and cry with you and see your smile and hold and kiss every one of your fingers and listen to your bad jokes." She rubs her hands over her eyes, and they brim with tears.
"I want you to rest your head in my lap when your sorrows are too much to bear, to be your pieces when you think parts of you are missing until you can find them again. I want to make love and be one with you when you're ready for that again and to count the stars after we're done." She cries now, earnestly.
"I want to see that face you make when you get into trouble, I want to be with you when you're get into it, to hear you debate intelligently, to hear you debate the dumbest, most dangerous, yet endearing things like--like why you should lick frozen poles, actually! Why would they make them so lickable if you shouldn't do that! Or why you should eat litres of ice cream at once and if at the end of brainfreeze there is some kind of enlightenment and you should absolutely keep doing that thing or something! I don't--I don't know, anything--" She gets louder and louder, almost hyperventilating and laughing and yet still so very clear before she is harsh and defiant.
"So Don't ASK ME TO LET YOU GO WHEN YOU'RE STILL HERE WITH ME!"
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Promises aren't a kindness, so she won't make any she cannot keep.
"No." She shakes her head. Have some conviction. Be honest.
Want something.
"I really, really do not, so don't ask me to. Memories are legacies, they are fragile, but powerful and important and we should keep them close to our hearts, but I don't want you to be just that. I want you here with me. I want to laugh with you and cry with you and see your smile and hold and kiss every one of your fingers and listen to your bad jokes." She rubs her hands over her eyes, and they brim with tears.
"I want you to rest your head in my lap when your sorrows are too much to bear, to be your pieces when you think parts of you are missing until you can find them again. I want to make love and be one with you when you're ready for that again and to count the stars after we're done." She cries now, earnestly.
"I want to see that face you make when you get into trouble, I want to be with you when you're get into it, to hear you debate intelligently, to hear you debate the dumbest, most dangerous, yet endearing things like--like why you should lick frozen poles, actually! Why would they make them so lickable if you shouldn't do that! Or why you should eat litres of ice cream at once and if at the end of brainfreeze there is some kind of enlightenment and you should absolutely keep doing that thing or something! I don't--I don't know, anything--" She gets louder and louder, almost hyperventilating and laughing and yet still so very clear before she is harsh and defiant.
"So Don't ASK ME TO LET YOU GO WHEN YOU'RE STILL HERE WITH ME!"