[ Because she does. It's the tightrope they're all walking but it's one the both of them are most keenly aware of. Ignore one's Imprints and lose themselves to madness; give in and find themselves at the mercy of what happens to those people, but possibly to be subsumed in the other soul's whimsies. The line between what is real and what is pantomimed in a phantom bond becomes murky. Often, she wonders if some of these alliances and friendships โ she supposes that's what they can be called โ are real.
It rails against something deep in her chest, deeper than that other soul. It beckons claws around her fragile heart and threatens to squeeze.
If these are all lies, then how many people has she manipulated to aid her, to be friendly to her, to be by her side? How many people is she lying to? And when will they leave, so she can be alone (and lonely) once more? ]
It's a mess. Everything's too tangled. [ She rises and comes to sit beside him on the couch, still maintaining enough distance to not touch, but close enough to reach with no trouble at all. ] I start to question what's real. If all of this is just fabricated and if I'm tugging people along by strings.
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[ Because she does. It's the tightrope they're all walking but it's one the both of them are most keenly aware of. Ignore one's Imprints and lose themselves to madness; give in and find themselves at the mercy of what happens to those people, but possibly to be subsumed in the other soul's whimsies. The line between what is real and what is pantomimed in a phantom bond becomes murky. Often, she wonders if some of these alliances and friendships โ she supposes that's what they can be called โ are real.
It rails against something deep in her chest, deeper than that other soul. It beckons claws around her fragile heart and threatens to squeeze.
If these are all lies, then how many people has she manipulated to aid her, to be friendly to her, to be by her side? How many people is she lying to? And when will they leave, so she can be alone (and lonely) once more? ]
It's a mess. Everything's too tangled. [ She rises and comes to sit beside him on the couch, still maintaining enough distance to not touch, but close enough to reach with no trouble at all. ] I start to question what's real. If all of this is just fabricated and if I'm tugging people along by strings.