Re: Hannah & Jeremiah; Jester's Court
When she'd suggested coming here, she hadn't known it would be a night for truths and confessions, but Hannah wasn't sorry. Hannah wanted truth. She thought relationships founded on air were made of clouds, and maybe that was a little hypocritical, but it was true. She didn't share her most important truth, but she liked to think she was true and real with people, and she listened while he turned to her and talked.
The carriage became a confessional, and she squeezed, squeezed at his fingers, reassuring in pressure points as he explained. She could tell the words didn't come easily to his lips, and she could tell it was even more challenging for them to tumble forth in that carriage above their kingdom.
Turning her body toward his on the little carriage bench, open and open and eyes looking at him just the same as they always had, she tipped ear to shoulder in her usual show of curiosity. As always, Hannah was unafraid of questions, and the rules that guided politeness didn't always work right in her head. She wanted to know, and so she asked: "Can you fill in more parts? How did you get from the ferris wheel to jail?" she asked him plainly. "Was it about that girl?" His girl. The one he'd talked about losing.
She squeezed his fingers. She touched his jaw. "Did you spend any time in jail?" She almost said she had. Once, for five days, at the beginning of everything, or, maybe, at the end of everything. "Do you still have to go to trial?"