( Fighting, in some ways, is easy. It requires less thought to give into anger, far less vulnerability to push people away than to let them in.
It's also exhausting. The constant effort to continue layering walls, to rebuild them when something cracks them. The alarm that sounds every time a piece of information slips out or the veneer slips to let out a smile or a laugh. Habit, more than anything, stiffens muscles under his touch when he pulls her close, when his arm wraps around her like it's trying to keep a million things away.
She's still, all held breath and eyes sliding shut when the warmth of his body, the steady thud of his pulse, presses against her cheek. Quiet and unmoving, like water in a jar, all held in place and together by one simple thing. )
... Alright.
( Fighting is easier, but fighting exhausts everyone eventually. )
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It's also exhausting. The constant effort to continue layering walls, to rebuild them when something cracks them. The alarm that sounds every time a piece of information slips out or the veneer slips to let out a smile or a laugh. Habit, more than anything, stiffens muscles under his touch when he pulls her close, when his arm wraps around her like it's trying to keep a million things away.
She's still, all held breath and eyes sliding shut when the warmth of his body, the steady thud of his pulse, presses against her cheek. Quiet and unmoving, like water in a jar, all held in place and together by one simple thing. )
... Alright.
( Fighting is easier, but fighting exhausts everyone eventually. )