Re: The Apartment: Eddie/Muerte
[She watched each of his movements and the way they seemed to take more energy than they should, and she could feel a corresponding weight on herself. She'd wanted Eddie to come home, still wanted him to be there, but the room felt too hot and too cold at the same time. And she had the feeling they weren't going to get past it (whatever "it" was) without going through it. She sat down too, but not next to him. In a chair next to the couch, not knowing if they needed space for their words to live.
Part of her wanted to be hurt by something in his words, wanted to take offense. Another part wanted to shout. But she bit her lips together and stayed quiet, and when he was done, her voice was soft.] I'm trying to figure it out. I don't have anything else like this for experience. And I can't cheat to look know what you've done in the past. I'm trying to find this line of us being ourselves and also being an us. I... [She shook her head and let out a sound that was almost a laugh.] I started doing laundry this morning because all I could think about was how much I wanted you back home, and I was trying to distract myself because I know I can't expect you to be here every second of the day. And I don't actually want that because it wouldn't be at all healthy for either of us, but it doesn't stop me from thinking about it. [She finally stopped, her words having gotten faster as she spoke, but at least not louder or shrill.]