Re: Quicklog: Sadie and Misha
"Sometimes." If it'd been anyone else, she'd have lied or avoided the question at the very least. This wasn't though and Sadie, more and more she was becoming aware of that. "First time it happened, understood it some I did. Won't say it didn't hurt plenty, but nobody planned on twins, nor havin' a third. Only made sense, when there wasn't enough to go around, I'd be the first to go." It was years of rationalization talking, but believing it had become a cornerstone in Sadie's ability to not simply be crushed by it. It was arguably the first stroke of that frosting she'd ever applied to her life but, even as she said the words out loud for the first time since that coffee shop in Albuquerque, they didn't seem to hurt much.
"Sometimes though, not at all. Folks they just...they seem to take issue with my being around. Upsets 'em some it does." She just shrugged. She knew it wasn't much of an explanation, but it was the best she had. She thought then, to tell him more, about the things she talked about with Nish, but stopped just short. It was one thing to talk about that where she knew it was safe. It was another thing entirely, comfortable as she was with Misha, much as she trusted him, to go handing out knowledge about what she did.
"Sometimes it's me." She'd say that at least. "Specially when I first got out on me own. Got excited for company I did, was probably right annoying I was. Or made people uncomfortable." Which, that wasn't the whole truth, but Sadie felt better having told him at least that part of it. He didn't need to know about the selfish things she did, or the mistakes she made when she forgot to mind her tongue. Probably wouldn't have believed her anyway, not with as crazy as the whole thing sounded.
She'd take his talk of cookies as the segue though and moved to carefully scoop two of them on a paper towel and bring them back to him. She'd scoot away again just long enough to get one for herself and a pair of milk glasses because cookies just weren't as good with a fresh, cool, glass of milk.
"Next time." She offered softly. "I'll let you sit by the oven if ye' like." It was more symbolic than serious, a way of offering a familiar piece of home like he'd done for her. It was also a subtle statement of how much she did enjoy his company and would like to be seeing more of it than she had.
"And...jus' so it dun'ae go unsaid an'all..." She took a slow breath. "I appreciate what you're doin', asking and such. Not...not often people do and it means a lot it does. Like talking to you a lot I do." Because, well, as she'd said, it should have been said.