Saturday was unsure of how to answer that question. She sank back against the couch cushions and undid the braid she started by dragging her fingers through Alice's hair slowly. Like a mother comforting a daughter, or sisters, even. She was surprisingly very quiet before she answered.
"There is someone who is possessive of me. It was not about me at first," she started, green eyes focusing on a window and the sky outside. "It was about a man I was with, who had things this other man wanted. So he took me from him. And I was taken back, eventually, but soon it became this ritual between them. It still is, really. He's still out there, sometimes we run into each other and he's quick to pull me back in.. I don't feel as if I have any claim over him but somehow he always manages to take my heart with such ease, I don't know how to explain it."