Oh.


For a while, their eyes do all the talking. She searches him out, pulled in by him the way the tide pulls at her ankles; the way a wind at her back pulls her forward, unrelenting.

Trust.

She simultaneously feels appreciative and wary. She'd never do anything to betray his trust, and the fact he knows that is good; however, so too comes the guilt that she'll only hurt him. She's too wounded, too unpredictable. Even she knows that. She can't rely on anyone, and no one should rely on her.

Her eyes are a sea storm.




"Good."

Is it, Kate?

Is it good?

Her attention dips to his chin.

"Tommy... Y'know, with me, you're never gonna get a normal kinda courtship, don't you? I know y'said y'weren't lookin' for that, but I — I don't wanna hurt you. An' I like you, too. I'm jus' — I'm not the kinda person a body wants t'bank on. I'm in too many pieces."

She pulls her fingers through his hair slowly, gently, like she's stroking one of her cats. His hair is healthy, and the action is comforting.

"I'd only let y'down."