playing for keeps...
This time I'm playing for keeps. Not keepsakes.
She walks a fine line between self assured, and stubborn.
With teeth clenched, and fists swinging, she always had the last word. Never because she's won,
But cause he'd been pushed away and her words fell on deaf and uncaring ears.
Secretly, she hoped he regretted it, the way she did.
She prayed that the breakdown haunted him, like it did her. That his ribs were cracking and heart was stuck in his throat the way hers was. Thinking about it, she always hated him for what he'd done, for leaving, but maybe he was just the smart one, getting out while his bones were still intact, and he wasn't completely broken.
He walked around like someone had just placed all the weight of the world on his shoulders, his back was slumped over, and his face was always set to neutral. A man of science, she was sure that these feelings scared him, in his mindset if something's hurting you, then the logical thing to do is cut it loose, right?