Re: Hannah & Jeremiah; Jester's Court
Hannah thought she understood his concern. She believed she understood why he hesitated, and she'd hesitated often enough when considering telling someone about herself. She was always afraid that they would look at her differently, but then she was also afraid they wouldn't see how hard it was. Maybe those two things were in contrast, but she understood them, and she thought maybe she understood him. As he squeezed her fingers, she thought she understood that he wanted to be seen, and that he also wanted not to be.
"Can you tell me the story?" she asked him as the ferris wheel slowly turned. They were alone here, and no one would hear his voice but her, and she squeezed his fingers again, reassuringly, hoping he would understand that she would hear anything he needed to say. It wasn't because he paid her, or because he'd hired her, and it had nothing to do with how their relationship began or continued on. Okay, she had never told a client's secrets, and she never would, but this wasn't that. "I won't tell anyone," she added, in case he needed to hear the words aloud and carried on the cotton-candy night.
That said, nudge, nudge, and she helped, guided, asked the questions that came immediately to mind and sat upon her lips. "What do you mean, not directly? What does impacted mean?" And, again: "Tell me the story, as if it was one of the scripts you were writing." She looked around deliberately, copper silk and a smile as she fixed cornflower gaze on him again. "There's no one here but us and shades, and I don't think shades care very much about our lives."