Stormy smiled hopefully once he started talking. "My family liked to listen to this old Celine Dion Christmas CD every year; I dunno how or why, but it became a tradition," she said as he took the cups and platters out one by one, sandwiching his hand with both her captive and free ones to try and rub a little warmth in. "Wasn't really Christmas at home until you heard her echoing around with all those embellishments . . . Anyway, uh, 'O Holy Night' was on the disc, too. It's a great song, but I agree: doesn't need to be remade."
She adjusted each item until they were lined up and centered. Everything had to be nice and neat and perfect for him.
"They did that to old Disney songs a lot, remake them. Usually by people on the Disney Channel, if not by an actual artist." Stormy made a face at the memories, though she was still smiling. "Mami bought me one of those CDs once for my birthday. Really weird to go from the classic to the remake. You can't really sing along because they might do something different, y'know?"
This wasn't her "good" rambling, but she was making an effort.
"You know what we should do? Light candles." She adjusted a teabag by a fraction of an inch. "To get us warm, I mean. Or if you don't have them, uh, blankets? I know you have some around, we could go find them? I promised we'd get cozy after all . . . Oh, and I'm not really a cook, but I promise I won't burn canned soup if you're hungry! Or--Or whatever you're in the mood for, really." Was she trying too hard again?
xkurotomato
Posted: Wed Jan 01, 2014 11:17 pm
He wanted to laugh good naturedly about Celine Dion, because he'd never been a fan of her and found her music trite and overdone; but the laughter wouldn't come, and instead Gale stood there with his fingers still locked with Stormy's, getting in the way and making it hard for her to work but still refusing to let go all the same.
It was embarrassing and pathetic all rolled into one, but his stubbornness and his anxiety were wreaking havoc with his sense of self.
She was still talking, and he loved the sound of her voice, of the way she formed each of the words, the little faces she made when she said certain things. He loved the way she interjected bits of Spanish here and there, sometimes without thinking about it, sometimes on purpose, and always beautiful to hear. He loved the way she was fixing the saucers and teacups to make sure they were just right because she knew he liked to have things a certain way.
Even if she didn't say it out loud, even if what she'd said was "I will never change my mind about you," not "I love you," he knew that she did; whether platonically or romantically was another story, but Stormy Ortega loved him in at least one way.
He had fallen so hard it sometimes felt difficult to breathe. Like now, when everything he held precious seemed to be slipping away from him.
Gale tugged on Stormy's hand abruptly, his free arm sliding around her waist as he pulled her against his chest and kissed her, sudden and not planned at all but still there. He pulled his hand free of hers to cradle her face, fingers tenderly stroking her cheek as he gripped the back of her shirt tightly.
He said nothing at all, just held her with his lips pressed firmly against hers, his face flushed and his eyes, although closed, very slightly damp.
Ol-j-man
kuropeco
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Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 1:57 am
"Actually, salad. Salad is better, no ghastly amounts of sodium there, much healthier for you, plus it's tastier. I could, um . . . I could look around my room later, see if there's something to bribe with . . ."
Maybe she was talking too much. Stormy didn't mind doing so one bit, even if what came out was nonsense, but she felt herself starting to flounder without an occasional response. It had been bold enough for her just to lead him through the house on her own, bolder still to take those steps up the porch to hold him when she hadn't been sure what he thought of her, she didn't kid herself by thinking she was braver for it, or brave at all for that matter. The "bravest" thing she had done to date was a toss up between killing someone (which had been done in the dark and from behind to boot) and trying to clarify to Lance what had happened months before (which ended up with her reaffirming that she was a traitor to Deus).
. . . No. No, perhaps the bravest thing she had done all year was agree to date Gale, because she knew what that meant for her, inevitably. She'd known even before they had kissed, before he had taken care of her when she was sick, before the bracelet, and before he had asked--she'd known near the beginning just how doomed she would be if she went down this rabbit hole.
And yet that wasn't the feeling coursing through her as they kissed. It was surprise and need and the burning emotion she could only call affection, because calling it by its real name was far too frightening, and talking about it--giving it form in the real world--would only leave it open to be broken or ruined too, like everything else that associated with her long enough. After all, look at what she had done to Gale: influenced him from being someone who had shouldered death and survived for almost three years to being someone who kissed her with need because the very thought of losing her could make him shut down. And that was before he knew just how much of a traitor she was going to end up being.
Stormy didn't blame him, though. The very idea of him ending the relationship, despite being entertained since the night she told him yes, was too foreign and wrong for her to properly comprehend. In fact, it rarely ever crossed her mind now because Gale was and had always been loyal; meanwhile, she was the flighty one, dodging words and questions like they were weapons thrown at her, accepting his confessions of love but being too scared to repeat them and ease his anxiety, using words like "need" and "important" instead and hoping that he saw through them for what they were. On some level he must have known this too, because why else would he hold her so tightly? It was either the risk of breaking or the risk of floating away, and they both knew which she was more prone to. Or was that iron grip just another sign of the commitment he had to her that she was feeling less and less worthy of by the minute?
Her fingers throbbed after being released, but the pain was barely noticed as her hand rose to hold his face in turn, a soft noise escaping her as he stroked hers. When Stormy pulled just a fraction of an inch away to breathe, she opened her eyes just enough to see the smallest of glimmers in his lashes--and in that moment she felt something warm like honey slowly sink into her erratically beating heart. It was always easier to comfort than it was to be comforted, to be dependable when someone was in need. "S'okay to let it out, I promise," she said, soft and surprisingly steady despite the emotions rolling around inside. Stroking his hair away with one hand, she kissed him gently while her other arm curled around his back. "Remember what you said to me on the cruise? You can bring me your troubles, too."
kurotomato
Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 8:57 am
He didn't mind the talking too much, because it meant that she cared enough to try. She was trying to fill the space in his heart that was currently empty because she knew that right now he needed it, needed to hear her voice even if the words she was saying had nothing to do with the situation at hand.
Gale felt Stormy's fingers against the side of his face, mimicking his own against her cheek, and he pressed more firmly against her at the sound she made, his chest feeling tight. A short, erratic gust of breath escaped his throat when she tugged back, but it wasn't far enough to warrant concern that she was trying to get away from him. He smoothed his thumb over Stormy's cheek, gentle and adoring, and when she kissed him again, he felt his heart constrict painfully and wonderfully all at once. Gale moved his hands to her waist, turned them around so that she was standing against the counter, and he leaned into Stormy, feeling terribly, pathetically desperate for the affection and the attention. It was a selfish, greedy feeling, and if it were a different time and a different place, he would have been appalled at his own arrogance, ashamed of the way he was acting.
He blinked rapidly, trying to dissipate some of the faint dampness of his eyes, and slid his arm back around Stormy's waist, his other hand at the back of her neck to tilt her head up to meet his, so that he could kiss her properly, wanting to stay as close to her as possible.
Gale mumbled her name against her lips, followed by something that might have been need or it might have been want or love, something lost in the press of his mouth against hers, his fingers tangling in Stormy's hair. Beside them a sharp whistle indicated that the kettle was reaching the boiling point, but he ignored it for now, doing exactly what she had said he could do - let it all out.
ol-j-man
kuropeco
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medigel
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Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 11:33 am
She tried so very hard not to wince when she was moved, when the pressure of his arms around her waist left only to be pressed against the counter before returning. It wasn't because she was against moving, but because doing so reminded her forcibly of a hidden bruise she'd gained in her fight with Jack. Stormy wasn't going to protest the position, though; this was about Gale's pain, not hers.
She needed the stability anyway, or else she would have probably bowed under the force he gave. But she tried to keep up anyway, to feed his selfishness with what it wanted, because she understood that need almost painfully: that sometimes giving wasn't enough and that taking was necessary; that sometimes words weren't enough and that action and impulse filled in the rest. Even so, Stormy felt the urge to talk--she simply found a way to do so without words.
She kissed him deeply, almost fiercely, in the hope of giving to him that same burning feeling he inevitably gave her, in the hope that somehow he could translate emotion to words for her because she never quite seemed capable of it, and in the hope that he would take it all the same. The hand at his back curled and gripped his shirt, pulled him closer even though she could barely breathe as it was. Then again, she was used to drowning.
Her bruise howled and the kettle screamed, but they were insignificant events. Things she was vaguely aware were happening but weren't urgent enough to attend to. Things that were soft in volume compared to Gale's mumbles.
"Here," she replied a little hoarsely, getting air while she could before kissing him again. "Right here, where I belong." And then she kissed him more fiercely, feeling her eyes sting even while shut but losing herself little by little, with every murmur, every coiled finger in her hair, every stroke of her cheek.
kurotomato
Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 11:58 am
If she winced, he didn't notice, Gale too wrapped up in his own problems instead of focusing more on Stormy like he should have. If he had been, he would have seen the flash of pain across her face, or the tension of her body at the spot where the bruise lay hidden beneath her clothes. Instead, he pressed her back against the counter, lost in his own desperation, his own selfish desires.
He felt her hand on the back of his shirt, pulling him closer, and his chest leapt with a selfish pleasure that she was kissing him, and not Jack, not the one who claimed that he knew her better than anyone. It was him that she wanted, not Jack, not Jack, and maybe if he could translate some of that into his emotions, he might be able to believe it.
Her voice was soft, ragged, and Gale drank it in greedily, everything, the touch of her hand, the press of her lips against his, her kisses determinedly strong, equal in their fierce passion with his own; he drank it like it was a balm to his soul, and maybe it was, maybe this would help him breathe again, in the most metaphorical sense.
One hand reached out, grappled for the stove controls, fumbled for several seconds, and finally clicked it off impatiently before returning to Stormy's waist, curling in the hem of her shirt. His pinky finger dipped, brushing unintentionally against the warm skin beneath, and Gale broke the kiss, gasping for air, his chest heaving, his head spinning.
Gale lifted his hand, tenderly stroking back some of the hair from her face, cradling her cheek against his palm. The gesture was almost hesitant, his touch light, as though she were made of fragile, made of glass, and if he moved too much or too fast, she would break beneath his fingertips.
He said nothing, but his eyes were a question; a question that Stormy would most likely have little trouble deciphering, but difficulty answering, which he knew, because no matter what Jack said, he knew her, better than Jack did.
Ol-j-man
zooms self off cliff gale is a dumbutt idk
kuropeco
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medigel
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Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 12:53 pm
Everything up until now had been...not exactly clear but at least she had a semblance of knowing what to do. Bring him into the house, warm up, talk, apologize, hold, kiss, let him vent, that was what she has meant to do. That same decisiveness was what had carried her through these choices, a quiet tenacity to see them through no matter what it took. She didn't mind the idea of giving and giving until there was nothing left if it meant making him happy, and she didn't mind that it was unhealthy to think so. Stormy was, at heart, not a healthy person in these regards.
She thought she understood the silent question he asked, but if Gale knew her then he also knew that she wasn't just fragile in body at times, but also in judgment and rationale. In this increasingly vulnerable moment, all it took was that brief moment of skin to skin contact to jolt her, to bring back memories of the times Jack had pressured her, where he had learned that doing things gradually, a touch here, a kiss there, a whisper now and then, was better than force on her, even though the answer was always no, no, no--
Stop it. She was supposed to be in the present. Gale and Jack were such fundamentally different people in so many ways, it was wrong to think for a second that they could have the same thought. It was just her being so damn stupid, so damn sensitive.
Stormy squeezed her eyes to try and stop the stinging before opening them and looking to him and his question again. She wasn't even aware anymore that the shrieks from the stove had stopped; her ears were still full of white noise anyway. Biting the inside of her cheek, she resisted the impulse to lean into his hand, braced herself, and said, "Ask me," in a small voice and with eyes that, despite her best efforts, were beginning to grow glassy.
There was comfort in the wordless, in letting boundaries fall away and lines blur where emotion crossed, where something could mean two different things at once and Stormy Speak was born. That was how she had comforted herself all this time: by believing her own version without asking Gale what he really meant, that somehow doing so negated what he thought because it couldn't be true in her mind. But here, all but pinned to the counter, there was no room to maneuver--not after raw experience of desperation and passion mixing. She had said yes before to something without really knowing what it was. This time she wanted clarity, even if in her heart she already knew what he was asking.
kurotomato
Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 1:25 pm
He knew the fragile state of her mind as well as her heart; like thin spindles of glass stretching back and forth, capable of breaking with just a single touch, a single word. The first half of their relationship had had Gale so scared that he would push too far, say something wrong, do something wrong, and those thin glass spindles would crack and break, shatter into dust.
Some of that fear had ebbed as time went on, and he became more comfortable in living his life with another person by his side, but at the same time there was still that underlying anxiety that it was too good to be true, that Stormy was just stringing him along entirely and had no intention of staying with him.
But she had. In spite of everything, in spite of everything that had happened, she had stayed beside him, even when it had become difficult to do so, and even when he did not deserve her. She had stayed because she cared, because he was important to her, just as she was important to him, more important than anyone else on the island, more important than anyone that Gale had ever had before in his life. It was this thought that was simultaneously terrifying and wonderful all at once, especially because he knew the kind of life they led.
And after all this time, the feelings for Stormy had not dimmed, but instead had grown stronger with each passing day until sometimes he felt as though he were going to drown in the weight of everything.
His thumb touched her cheek, gently, and Gale tilted her head up so that he could look at her face. He bent his own head and kissed one slightly damp eye and then the other; a small attempt at getting rid of the tears that were threatening to fall, though his own eyes were slightly red from the effort of holding his emotions at bay.
Ask me, she had said. A clear and concise question so that she could have a clear and concise answer ready. Gale took a small, shakey breath, trying to determine what it was that he wanted, what all of the thoughts in his head were twisting around for.
"Will you..." he started, and then stopped, swallowing. His fingers were trembling slightly against her cheek. Gale's voice was low and soft; a quiet question, not a forceful statement. "Will you come upstairs with me," he said, and it was almost a whisper, hardly audible, not because he was afraid of the answer, but because it was such an immense question in and of itself. "Will you...spend the night...with me?"
His voice dropped even lower, his fingers pressed against Stormy's face. "Do you want to wake up beside me tomorrow morning?"
Ol-j-man
kuropeco
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medigel
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Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 2:04 pm
The white noise in her ears became replaced by the sound of heartbeats. Every throb reminded her of her mortality, of how so much depended on just one organ remaining constant and that if it stopped it would spell disaster, and it reminded her of how susceptible the armor around it really was, how quick it could bruise and burn and scratch without a shield. How soft the eyes were, the ones that managed to hold back tears anyway when they were kissed, the ones that gazed at her equally red-rimmed.
It was amazing, above all that, that she could hear Gale at all with how soft and hesitant he sounded. She sniffled and swallowed. It wasn't the question she had imagined, but that was best: answering that one probably would have just caused a further mess. Stormy didn't look away as he struggled for the right words to phrase his questions, patient and sympathetic; words were hard to find when emotions fought for dominance. But of all the things Gale could have asked her, this one was the easiest to answer, and for that she was grateful.
Her hand slid from his face and settled atop his, trying to soothe his fingers' trembling as she gently pressed. "I can't think of a better way to start Christmas morning," she replied, a little smile tugging at her lips.
kurotomato
Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 2:14 pm
Her fingers were gentle as they touched his, and at the smile on her face, Gale wondered if she had understood the meaning behind his questions; that when he had asked her to spend the night, it had not just just the basic definition of a sleepover. Stormy's eyes were still glassy, and her cheeks were red, but she was smiling at him, at least a little.
His heart felt tight, ready to burst at any moment. "Do you," he started to say, and then stopped, his throat constricting, and now he was nervous, his own face flushed. Gale's fingers interlaced with Stormy's as he took her other hand; now both of them were against his own, a quiet, gentle reminder that she was still with him.
"I didn't mean...just to sleep," he said softly, and bit his lip. He wanted to ask something else - he wanted to ask Do you love me? and it was at the tip of his tongue, ready to slip, but he reigned it back in, swallowed it down instead because he wasn't sure she was ready to answer it just yet.
"Do you, um," said Gale again, now slightly flustered. "...know what I mean?"
Ol-j-man
kuropeco
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medigel
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Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 3:14 pm
She was waiting for the relief to come: the returned smile, the kiss, the invitation to drink tea and wind down on the couch. Something to bring down the emotional levels they were experiencing. Yet strangely all she felt was it getting more tense somehow, and Gale taking both of her hands made her nervous more than comforted. And that was pretty stupid of her, probably just the confusion of thoughts and emotions messing her up again.
But then he continued speaking. She was quite still as he clarified what he meant, and like an avalanche the realization hit her hard, cold, and fast.
Her smile dropped. Her palms started to sweat.
So he would rather ask her for that instead of what she knew he meant; he thought it was easier to ask her for sex than to ask her about love.
That's not fair, Stormy argued with herself. He started with love and had all this time. You just never answered back.
But I did! I have every day we're together, just...not verbally.
And you thought that was enough? You thought you were enough?
And she remembered the slip of his finger against her back, and as her imagination went wild phantoms emerged: the unwanted advances, the hungry eyes, delicate touches, soft words, that salty musk, the commands, the yanks and tangles in her hair, the yelling outside the door--
You did this to me, Jack had hissed in the snow. You ******** did this to me, so I hope you're happy.
"I-I--" Stormy hadn't realized a tear had spilled over until it dropped off her chin, nor was she aware of how much color had drained from her face. Her fingers were cold and sweaty. "I'm--I'm not ready for that." Her voice cracked, and her body tensed in anticipation for the letdown, the anger and sorrow; her hands were hostages, so her shoulders hunched instead. "But...But is it too much, a-asking to share the bed anyway?"
kurotomato
Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 3:40 pm
He knew the moment he said it that it wasn't what she had expected - that it wasn't what he had expected either. The stunned expression on her face did not make him upset because he knew instinctively that she would say no, and it was not the prospect of reaction that made him feel suddenly and overwhelmingly angry with himself. It was the fact that he had not been clear in the first place, that he had let himself get swept up in his own stupid emotions and that he had made her cry.
She was crying.
The mirage of self-control had long since dissipated, and Gale let go of Stormy's hands to wrap his arms around her shoulders and pull her against his chest. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent, his fingers shaking with the effort of not breaking down right then and there.
"I'm sorry," he said against her hair. "Stormy, I'm sorry."
It wasn't enough, those two words, not nearly enough, and why was it just so hard to say what he wanted to say? Was this the breaking point, the spindles of Stormy's heart shattering beneath his own hands? He wasn't sure he'd be able to bear it, to lose her because of his own stupid mistakes.
"Please stay," he whispered, and it was another selfish request and he'd made her cry and he hated that he'd made her cry. "Not for that, I mean," he added quickly, disgusted with himself for even bringing it up in the first place, but needing to make his meaning as clear as day. "If you want to leave, I'd understand, but I want you to stay anyway because I want to be with you."
His grip tightened, just a little.
"I'm afraid I'm going to lose you," Gale gasped out and suddenly the words, words he hadn't even known were inside of him came spilling out, all at once, tripping over themselves; his voice was fast and breathless and hoarse. "I'm afraid that I'll wake up one day and you won't be here anymore, because you're gone or because you chose someone else, or because you're just not here. I'm afraid of you not existing anymore, and I'm afraid of how much I can't seem to let you go, even though I want you to be able to choose for yourself, and I'm afraid that I am too attached and too dependent on you when I shouldn't be."
He felt dizzy with the effort of speaking, everything colliding all at once.
"I'm afraid," said Gale softly, his face still against Stormy's hair, "that there will be a day when you're not hear, and I'm not sure that I can even bear the thought."
ol-j-man
kuropeco
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medigel
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Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 5:00 pm
Stop crying, Stormy chided herself, though it was much too late to hide it. In an instant she was swaddled in Gale's arms, all regret and apologies and guilt clinging together. And she couldn't help but mentally apologize with him, to think, I'm so sorry, too, over and over because she was the one doing this to him, making him feel weak.
Gale spoke uninterrupted as she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head over his shoulder: she couldn't stop the tears as she listened, but she could let them fall quietly while he wasn't looking. They didn't come because his words hurt her, but because he had read her mind without knowing it. "Those--Those're normal fears to have," Stormy began, low and soft. "Even if we weren't at Deus. They're perfectly normal a-and it's okay to have them. I have them." She believed it was important for him to distinguish between overthinking and natural worrying, that these thoughts weren't things to be ashamed of and hold back.
What could she tell him, though? They were at Deus, where daily life was a privilege and not a guarantee. Maybe one day, as horrifying as it was, one of them might not be there anymore; neither of them needed to be reminded of that.
She buried her face into his shirt to wipe the tears away, careful not to dislodge him, and sniffled. "I chose to be here," she continued, beginning to stroke his back. "I chose to come back. I chose to give you some of my burdens and take some of yours in return. I-I chose to let you in even though I wasn't sure if I was enough. I chose you, Gale, and I meant it when I said I'd never change my mind." Her breaths came shallow and she had to pause to regain herself, eyes shutting to distract herself from how tight her chest felt.
"I can't tell you not to have those fears, because that's human nature. But I can promise--I can swear that I'll do everything I can to make sure they never become a reality. Because--Because you're worth it, Gale." Her throat constricted, and she pulled him in tighter. "You're worth s-so much more than I can say."
kurotomato
Posted: Thu Jan 02, 2014 10:49 pm
He couldn't recall the last time he had let go - the last time he had really let go. Gale had spent most of his life keeping as calm as possible, pushing things away, hiding them beneath the surface so that he could maintain his easy demeanor. Even in Stormy's room, when he had burst out with those three words - I love you - some part of him had still been holding back. He was so used to being reserved that it made it almost difficult to be anything else.
Now, though, he couldn't seem to stop. He felt as though he were drowning, sinking into himself, into Stormy and her warm arms as she tucked herself against him just as he was doing to her. He didn't want to even entertain the possibility of losing her, but that was not a luxury he could afford. Living on Deus was not like living out in the rest of the world, where one could die spontaneously in a car accident or a gang fight. Deus meant that one willing went into those sorts of situations knowing what the consequences might be.
He leaned back, not far enough to escape her grasp, but enough that he could see her face, which was red cheeked and tear-stained. Tenderly Gale lifted his hand and cupped Stormy's face with both hands, his own face flushed, his eyes oddly bright. He took a deep, shaking breath, as though trying to regain some sense of his self back.
"Do you," he said quietly, and his voice was raw and hoarse, sounding like gravel. He cleared his throat, shifted his feet, and and said again, very faintly, "Do you love me?"
And there it was, the question he'd been burning to ask all along, the question upon which he felt everything rested upon. It didn't have to be a declaration, a fancy and embellished proclamation of her affections; just a nod or a shake of her head was good enough for Gale, who knew that Stormy was likely to not be ready to say those three words even if she did.
It took time; it had taken Gale a long time to realize his feelings and even longer to admit them out loud to her.
Ol-j-man
kuropeco
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medigel
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Posted: Fri Jan 03, 2014 1:15 am
If it was possible to choke on words, then this was what it felt like. Her throat felt as raw as if she were sick or had screamed for hours, and yet barely a sound was leaving her now. What refugees that had slipped out of her mouth before the bar came down felt like a faux pas, a step over her boundaries (as blurry as they were right now) that overdramatizised the situation even more. And the crying, she cursed, always crying, always emotional . . . It just distressed him, she figured, it didn't do anything to help the problem and it showed how childish she was in the end, not knowing what to do except make a mess.
But at least she kept it together when Gale finally asked; that was one of the better reactions she had pictured in her many imaginings of how the scenario would happen.
She sniffled and took a breath to steady herself, her face cradled in his hands and warmed. The courage Stormy had earlier when she initially thought he was going to ask had crumbled quickly under the wrong question, and she struggled to remember how to find it again. "I think," she whispered, her expression softening, "that you know already by now. But." She gestured with her head towards the living room, an excuse to press her cheek against his fingers. "There's an envelope somewhere in that bag that could give you a much better answer than anything I try to stutter out."
Stormy hesitated, then briefly leaned on her toes to give Gale a short but soft kiss. "I-I, um . . . I can't help but feel like I've given you a little too much at once, though," she mumbled with an apologetic smile. It was instinctive, the need to backpedal and pull back after being vulnerable, to distract and support and move after being held in one place for so long in the spotlight; it was worse just by mentioning the item waiting for Gale. "I apologize. You haven't even gotten to sit down and have your tea yet and all, and I bet you're tired . . ." Her hands curled near her stomach uncertainly.
It was her turn to wonder if Gale's state was fragile enough that following through on her sinful habit of circumventing and avoidance might accidentally break him. She didn't mean to, honest . . . But she had come bearing the envelope without knowing how things would go at Gale's house, and she hoped that that was some form of courage manifesting, even just a modicum--a step in the right direction for the girl who couldn't even say three little words.
