I hesitate but Isabelle doesn't and when she allows herself to be hugged, I return it with as much of my strength as I can. I try to believe that I can somehow anchor her down to the here and now if I just believe hard enough. It doesn't matter that it's unrealistic; Isabelle looks so drained and I hate it.
"Don't be sorry. I just worried." The admission is dear, probably to both of us, and I don't step back out of the hug. Looking over her shoulder, I can see her kitchen and I loosen my grip but only a little.
"Would you like me to make a cup of tea or something?" I think of Tori and the mug of mint tea she'd pressed into my hands once.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2017-01-22 08:23 am (UTC)"Don't be sorry. I just worried." The admission is dear, probably to both of us, and I don't step back out of the hug. Looking over her shoulder, I can see her kitchen and I loosen my grip but only a little.
"Would you like me to make a cup of tea or something?" I think of Tori and the mug of mint tea she'd pressed into my hands once.