[ Tim waits before he replies. Letting it sink in. He doesn't know if it's a slip or a confession, but either way it's...complicated. He's glad to know her, to have someone in his life who understands having these feelings despite their faith, living in a place different from this one, that makes acting on them difficult to impossible. To have that solidarity soothes him.
To know that she might have this same black hole in her, this endless pull of longing and foolish hopes that swallows the rest of her, takes that comfort right back. ]
Are you sure?
For me, it's not that the love is gone. He needs to hide it. But I can't.
[ He doesn't need to specify he, probably, but he chooses to. A trade of secrets, a comparison of bruises. ]
no subject
To know that she might have this same black hole in her, this endless pull of longing and foolish hopes that swallows the rest of her, takes that comfort right back. ]
Are you sure?
For me, it's not that the love is gone. He needs to hide it. But I can't.
[ He doesn't need to specify he, probably, but he chooses to. A trade of secrets, a comparison of bruises. ]
Is she here?