( The baring of his wrist explains a lot. The smell she's been picking up, earthy and cloying, subtle underneath the rest of him — the sweat and soap and whatever he uses to wash his clothes are all stronger, but they don't completely drown it out. It's so close to the smell she remembers Logan carrying back when she was a child; toxic, metal. Not as strong, but... definitely present.
He's sick. It occurs to her with another brush of guilt for letting him kneel on that leg. Maybe he's not dying, but something is definitely wrong. Judging by the marks on his wrist, he must know. It doesn't look healthy.
Maybe it's this thought, and the painful reminder it caries, that prompts her to be honest in return. )
Mine, too.
( The dad thing, that is. She never had a mother, not really. Biologically, sure — and Gabriela tried her best for the weeks that she had the chance, but that's it. That's all.
But this isn't a Laura pity party, and she doesn't intend to turn it into one. It's just about relating to this stranger helping her out as she eases lug nuts off of their threads.
She casts a glance over, long enough to earnestly say: )
a single tear slides down my also beardless cheek
He's sick. It occurs to her with another brush of guilt for letting him kneel on that leg. Maybe he's not dying, but something is definitely wrong. Judging by the marks on his wrist, he must know. It doesn't look healthy.
Maybe it's this thought, and the painful reminder it caries, that prompts her to be honest in return. )
Mine, too.
( The dad thing, that is. She never had a mother, not really. Biologically, sure — and Gabriela tried her best for the weeks that she had the chance, but that's it. That's all.
But this isn't a Laura pity party, and she doesn't intend to turn it into one. It's just about relating to this stranger helping her out as she eases lug nuts off of their threads.
She casts a glance over, long enough to earnestly say: )
Sorry that happened to you. It's hard.