Re: Hannah & Jeremiah; Jester's Court
She was kind of surprised at his comment about her work, and she really did wish she could explain. But explaining would mean talking about her programming, about what she was, and she didn't know how to start that conversation, and she didn't know that she wanted to. It always changed. Everything always, always changed when she told someone, and either they tried to negate what she was, or they dehumanized her, and she wasn't really sure if there was a right way, a middle way, and so she stared back as he squeezed her hand and tucked her hair back from her face. It was as if this was a frozen moment, a thing caught in amber, and she felt certain that time was moving really, really slowly.
He raised her hand to his lips, and she watched and even wriggled her fingertips a little against his mouth. Just a little, since she could tell he was going to talk, and she waited, still and hush and waiting and waiting. What he asked her, it wasn't what she expected him to say, or to ask, or it wasn't what she expected to come from his mouth. Did she trust him? And she tipped her head, and she looked and looked. "I trust you," she ultimately said, and it was a really thought out response. She'd been told she was too trusting, that she was naive, but she didn't think she was either of those things at all.
His hand was on her waist, and she listened. Ever the curious little bird listening for the singing in the distance, she listened. There was a pause, a pause, a blip, a pause, and she brought her hand to his jaw, fingers against his cheek. "I'm not all good things. I'm bad, bad, bad, and dark things too. I've done terrible things, and worse things than you have, and I'm not sorry. I'd do them again," she said, her usual candor poised upon her lips and spilling. "I think you only see good things," she said, and she didn't know how much she should say. "How can you love me, if you don't know those things? I don't want things built on falsehoods. I think things built on lies crumble, don't you?" she asked, genuine and imploring, and her fingers slipping beneath his jaw to his chin. "I think tarnish is beautiful. I think destructive love stories are romantic. I'm not all sunshine. I never, ever have been all sunshine."