[What scares her the most is that she can't stop. Even when the prickling retreats from her arms and hands, and some of the black fog clears out of her head, everything feels stiff and useless and she's still crying.
Finding the strength to look at him is so hard. She finally does, red-eyed and still very pale, and he looks so worried. Mia can't face that, the slow realization he must have that she isn't responsible or dependable at all when people are hurting, all her gathered failure out in the open. She couldn't even tell him he'd done well without ruining it.
'I'm sorry,' she tries to say, but between the whisper and the cracks running through her voice she might as well have stayed silent.]
[action, May 29]
Finding the strength to look at him is so hard. She finally does, red-eyed and still very pale, and he looks so worried. Mia can't face that, the slow realization he must have that she isn't responsible or dependable at all when people are hurting, all her gathered failure out in the open. She couldn't even tell him he'd done well without ruining it.
'I'm sorry,' she tries to say, but between the whisper and the cracks running through her voice she might as well have stayed silent.]