[Because she wants to trust, she does. She wants forgiveness. But she knows different.]
I just wanted to hurt them. Not because I had--I did it because I hated them. I hate them. They hurt you. I'm--you're the only fucking thing I care about at all.
[She untangles enough to drag him to bed, and then tangles again, sweet and sexless. Her face fits just just right against his shoulder as she drags blankets up over the two of them.]
I think--
[I could love you.]
You're the best friend. Ever. Go to sleep. I'll make everything okay.
[She kisses his cheek, soft and chaste. Hi, Jesse.]
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[Because she wants to trust, she does. She wants forgiveness. But she knows different.]
I just wanted to hurt them. Not because I had--I did it because I hated them. I hate them. They hurt you. I'm--you're the only fucking thing I care about at all.
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I'm a murderer.
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[But she's softer, now. Lulled. She nuzzles his shoulder. Buddha, but she's tired. And it's not, in the end, a surprise.]
Can we sleep now? Please.
Me too. Even--even before. The guy who killed Larkspur. I killed him. You're not alone.
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I think--
[I could love you.]
You're the best friend. Ever. Go to sleep. I'll make everything okay.
[She kisses his cheek, soft and chaste. Hi, Jesse.]