Weaver of Lies

He scooted right up next to her Abe wrapped an arm tightly around her, smiling.

“Can I put my arm around you?”

Edgar suddenly stopped feeling tired. “Don’t be sorry! Please! Why don’t you come sit next to me? I feel fine?”

Edgar smiled as she touched his face, hoping this meant they could be by each other again. Icy cold washed through him, but he ignored it. He didn’t care what was happening if it meant he could be with her. He also started feeling very tired.

I really, really want you to write faster, my friend. This is all so good!

“I’m here. I will always be here. I’m never going to hurt you again.” He also grabbed a menu. “Me too, the one with bacon. And I think I’ll get a shake. Hopefully they don’t ask too many questions about why I’m covered with blood.” He turned to the waiter, “Can I get the bacon burger and the cookies and cream milkshake?”

“I…can I help you? At all?”

“But I don’t care if you’re sick or not. I still want to be with you.” He kept himself from scooting over next to her and taking her hand.

He frowned back. “But we’ve been walking together all this time, and I’m not doing any worse.” Did she just not want to be by him? He could understand if that was the case. How could anyone want to be with him.

Edgar sits next to Jenny in one of the booths, almost collapsing from pain and exhaustion. He puts an arm around her cloth-covered shoulders anyway. @Lunamor

“They’re here too!” she said to Jacin, pointing to the figure ahead of them. “They must have known we were coming!” @Anguished_One

Thank you, friend.

“I love you too. And nothing will ever be able to change that, ok?”

Being careful not to touch her bare skin, not because he was afraid but because she wouldn’t want him to, he hugged her tightly. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“…yes, you did.”

“But what if it’s neither of our faults? What if there isn’t a problem?”

“…sorry.” He looked down too. He’d just been trying to help, but he’d made things worse. Again.

He leaned over and kissed her. “See, I’m fine. But thank you for caring.”

“You weren’t killing me when you were holding my hand. And I like your hand more than a glove.” He smiled at her, trying to be comforting.

“It’s ok,” he grunted. “What are the gloves for?” She was so confusing sometimes.

No matter how fast or slow, if you run you’re a runner

He immediately collapsed to the floor and groaned in pain. He struggled to a sitting position.

“Yeah, I am. It’s just that…the grass didn’t die until…never mind, it’s not important.” He squeezed her hand back.

“Umm…well…” he looked down at his hand in hers, which wasn’t withering and dying, thankfully. He couldn’t seem to form words.