Feeling her hand against his own made him freeze up, although there was a momentary look of genuine confusion that crossed over his features; like he couldn’t figure out what caused the music to stop. His eyes focused down on their hands, quietly thinking about what he was going to say. What was he going to say? What could he say, without her getting more upset than she was now? What if he was just…overreacting? He knew he wasn’t, but he wanted to think he was for Matilda’s sake.
How was he going to explain to someone who had been by his side through thick and thin, that this time…there was absolutely nothing she could do to help? That this time, he was completely on his own? Even in his highly intoxicated state, he couldn’t bring himself to be nearly as blunt about it as he had been with all of the other bits of information he had revealed to her. It was partially because he hadn’t talked about it to anyone yet…and doubted he ever would, had Matilda not shown up when she did. He was caught off guard, and hadn’t the time to prepare for a situation like this…he didn’t think anyone would question him about it so soon.
His eyes met hers for the first time since he had last turned to face her, and as soon as he saw the tears in her eyes, his stomach dropped. Seeing the women he cared about crying was something that cut through him like a knife, especially when he was the one responsible…and often times, he was.
“Even if I wanted to…I wouldn’t know how.” He continued to look at her, his mismatched eyes staring into hers, even though he seemed to be a million miles away. His hand remained where it was, trapped beneath her smaller, more delicate one.
(Read comments)
Post a comment in response:
scribbld is part of the horse.13 network
Design by Jimmy B.
Logo created by 
hitsuzen.
Scribbld System Status
