Date: 2016-06-17 06:16 am (UTC)
ghostsarereal: (pic#9707138)
Perhaps the question shouldn't be so unexpected. Perhaps she should have seen this coming, the two of them being alone here, the subject at hand so fraught. They've been dancing around it for months, or at least it feels that way now that they've addressed it so directly. That was never going to be able to last forever, and there were always going to be other things that came up in conjunction with it. Edith can't pretend she hasn't spent a great deal of time thinking about it, too, trying to parse how she feels and what everything that's happened means, where they go from here when their situation is such an unorthodox one.

He'd had a hand in killing all those other women, and in almost killing her, too. Maybe it should be just as simple as that. It never has been, though, and everything he's said today has only ensured that stays the case.

"I don't think I ever stopped," she says, thoughtful, as much to herself as to him. "I don't know that we ever get that much say in the matter." It's not like it's as simple as choosing to flip a switch, loving someone one day and deciding not to the next. It's complicated and messy and involuntary and nothing at all like she'd once imagined. Then again, nothing really turned out like she thought it would. She never expected she would wind up in a place like this, either, and the only thing there's been to do is adjust.
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Thomas Sharpe

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