[She kisses him between the shoulder blades, resting her face against him, eyes closed. She wants what he says to be true. For it to be more than just the words.
How she does this to herself is a mystery - loving so much so quickly. It happened with Kincaid. It happened with Harry, despite the time it took her to see and accept it. It's as true and as honest with Bruce as it was with either of the other two.
Murphy wrings the cloth clean and retrieves the soap again, cleaning a fresh scrape until tiny ribbons of blood chase the ugly scabs down the drain.
She won't say it - it's too potent and too threatening a word, at least for her. Love has never been simple or easy, and it's always been dangerous.]
no subject
How she does this to herself is a mystery - loving so much so quickly. It happened with Kincaid. It happened with Harry, despite the time it took her to see and accept it. It's as true and as honest with Bruce as it was with either of the other two.
Murphy wrings the cloth clean and retrieves the soap again, cleaning a fresh scrape until tiny ribbons of blood chase the ugly scabs down the drain.
She won't say it - it's too potent and too threatening a word, at least for her. Love has never been simple or easy, and it's always been dangerous.]