[She believes in all sorts of things she used to know weren't true, like innocents and second chances (even if she hasn't thought the latter through and admitted it yet), and she believes it with all the unspoken caveats he intended, and maybe without a few of them. She's been cycling up on balance for awhile now, however deep the dips, and they're on the upswing.
It's so strange to hear him laugh, feel the puff of it, something out of the mossy-green cyrillic-clatter memories of her earliest years, like chick down in her hair and stretching to reach the handle of the village water pump. She chokes on a fresh wave of high, thready cries, face red and stinging. She feels a little hollow when they've all careened out of her, still damp and dripping here and there where she was scoured clean.
She doesn't move for a little while longer, even after all the tears she has are soaking peacably in his shirt. She just stands there awhile longer in his arms, half aware of her breathing gradually settling out to match the pace of his hands rubbing her back.]
[spam]
It's so strange to hear him laugh, feel the puff of it, something out of the mossy-green cyrillic-clatter memories of her earliest years, like chick down in her hair and stretching to reach the handle of the village water pump. She chokes on a fresh wave of high, thready cries, face red and stinging. She feels a little hollow when they've all careened out of her, still damp and dripping here and there where she was scoured clean.
She doesn't move for a little while longer, even after all the tears she has are soaking peacably in his shirt. She just stands there awhile longer in his arms, half aware of her breathing gradually settling out to match the pace of his hands rubbing her back.]