[ She supposes no one is going to hunt him down here for looking like someone cried on his shirt, but still. He didn't have to be decent. So few men actually make the attempt. She can't help but remember when she would climb that tree as a girl to cry, and somehow Arthur would always find her, and sit with her. Those memories are too old to be tweaked by Joy... and why would they be? Even though they were sad memories... they were actually some of her happiest, too. ]
You... want to drive us to the city? Together?
[ Does she want that? Does she want to go with him? He doesn't even believe her-- but he's so gentle and thoughtful and-- and it could mean time to explain, if she cared to. If she could get the words past the knot in her throat. God, she does want to, doesn't she? Just like she wanted to run away with him-- so many times before.
But is she still mad at him? Sally can't exactly say no to that either... why the fuck do her emotions have to be so damn complicated? Maybe-- maybe she shouldn't do this, let him help her, when she's so messed up. She already knows she's going to. ]
Your very practical, as always. I... hadn't thought much farther than figuring out how to drive
[ Christ is she ever tired of being alone. And if she had to pick a person to keep that loneliness away... wouldn't be be Arthur? How much had she chatted away to little Gwen about the man without even knowing if he still remembered her at all? ]
... I think I've slept in hatches that were actually smaller inside. At least one.
[ Is he actually offering to let her stay with him, beyond the ride to the city? The first thing she wonders is 'Why?' and there are honestly way too many, complicated answers to that question.
Arthur's assumptions runs the opposite of Sally's; she's not sure why he would want her around indefinitely. Doesn't he think she's bonkers? Doesn't she make things complicated? Doesn't he hate her just a little bit? She hates herself just a little bit, after all. ]
Are you... sure you won't get tired of me? You're not... tired of me already? I think there might be some boogers on your shirt.
no subject
You... want to drive us to the city? Together?
[ Does she want that? Does she want to go with him? He doesn't even believe her-- but he's so gentle and thoughtful and-- and it could mean time to explain, if she cared to. If she could get the words past the knot in her throat. God, she does want to, doesn't she? Just like she wanted to run away with him-- so many times before.
But is she still mad at him? Sally can't exactly say no to that either... why the fuck do her emotions have to be so damn complicated? Maybe-- maybe she shouldn't do this, let him help her, when she's so messed up. She already knows she's going to. ]
Your very practical, as always. I... hadn't thought much farther than figuring out how to drive
[ Christ is she ever tired of being alone. And if she had to pick a person to keep that loneliness away... wouldn't be be Arthur? How much had she chatted away to little Gwen about the man without even knowing if he still remembered her at all? ]
... I think I've slept in hatches that were actually smaller inside. At least one.
[ Is he actually offering to let her stay with him, beyond the ride to the city? The first thing she wonders is 'Why?' and there are honestly way too many, complicated answers to that question.
Arthur's assumptions runs the opposite of Sally's; she's not sure why he would want her around indefinitely. Doesn't he think she's bonkers? Doesn't she make things complicated? Doesn't he hate her just a little bit? She hates herself just a little bit, after all. ]
Are you... sure you won't get tired of me? You're not... tired of me already? I think there might be some boogers on your shirt.