(no subject)

[lucre]

[ Her memory of last week felt like someone else had lived in her body, said and did things she would never do but leaving all the blame for her to bear. She remembers it all like a bad dream in which she holds no control of herself. It feels jarring, and for a moment she contemplated whether it would be better to keep acting like her younger self. Most preferred her thus. Sweetness itself, a rose without a thorn.

It is perhaps a good thing that she doesn't recall meeting Spike then because now it feels as if he's among the very few who wouldn't frown at seeing her this way, older and sadder. Being sad isn't so terrible if it means being stronger. If it means not letting herself be so easily hurt.

But Lucrezia doesn't want to be sad today. She even keeps a lid on her smile when she knocks on his door with a bunch of Madonna lilies that haven't yet bloomed. ]

Comments

[gottaknockhard]

[He leans back, listening more than he did the last time she told a story. Like there's a hidden meaning that he doesn't want to miss out on.

Although now he's expecting her to stop before the end. If she does, he'll congratulate himself on seeing it coming.]