It was never going to be okay -- Laney knew that much, deep down in her soul. It wasn't going to be okay for their comrades that had had their starseeds torn out and consumed, nor for the ones who'd been mutated into youma. None of them had a far-off future, a better life waiting a thousand years off. For three people, at least, it was never going to be okay at all. It was never going to be anything.
Hearing Orah say it, though -- hearing her promise that everything would be okay -- she could almost feel like it was true. Orah was warm and gentle, and she gave so much of herself that it hurt, stunting her growth like some kind of self-pruning bonsai. A person could feel safe with Orah -- not in the sense of being protected, but in the sense of being safe with some creature very fluffy and warm and soft and peaceable. Orah wasn't the sort of person who knowingly hurt other people. She was that kind of safe.
Trustworthy-safe.
A person needed things like that sometimes. The simplest, kindest emotions were the best ones humanity had to offer.
"Thank you," she murmured quietly, letting the rest of her tears work themselves out with her head pillowed against the reassuring warmth of Orah's chest and heartbeat. Laney wrapped her arms securely around the other girl's rib cage like it was a body pillow.
"I just . . . "
I just want to know you aren't going to go away again. I just want to know I have you.
Laney left her sentence unfinished. Soon enough, her breathing evened out to a slow pace, and she slept.
Whimsical Blue
fin?
