[ She allows herself the warm embrace for a moment before the recoil comes fast at the sound of should, this blade to the bone. Should and shouldn't. She isn't how she's supposed to be and whose fault is that? That there is a lack in her is something she knows all too well, and she holds fiercely to what hurts, because it is hers. ]
(Anyway -- I'm not made for it. It doesn't matter.)
no subject
( Anyway -- I'm not made for it. It doesn't matter. )