Weaver of Shadows
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She shrugged. “Sure.”
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“Do you want me there?”
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“Kind of, I guess.” She looked away.
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Not at all the bet I imagined, and yet so much better than what I had imagined. Say something back so I can give you more rep for this.
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“Like this,” he said, standing and taking a step.
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“So…you wanted to go?”
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“I love you so much,” he breathed. “And my parents will too. Please, trust me.”
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“In a good way. I love you, not because you’re the same as everyone else, but because you’re different.” He kissed her.
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“I can’t do much else. Thanks for staying. Sorry for being such a dead weight. I guess I’m an alive one, actually,” he said, chuckling. The chuckle turned into a fit of coughing.
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“Because most people don’t. You’re special.”
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“Because I’m me,” he said simply.
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“I would upset anyone for you. And it’s not like they like me much in the first place.”
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“Then we’ll leave, and I’ll still be with you.”
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“Because you’re so wonderful. And you make me happy, that’ll be enough for them.”
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“I know so.”
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“I promise you, they will.” He began rubbing her back, trying to ease out the tension.
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Sure, I guess. They’ll love you.
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“Not really…it hurts enough here.” He groaned, his pain washing over him.
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“Nothing, I guess. What’s important where you’re going?”
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Where, my parents?
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No. I think we’re both safer together.
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Edgar was trapped. Quite trapped.
