It really has. That they've managed to come and talk to each other about it at all is a victory in itself but Abby feels steadier for having said it too, even though it aches. Look how easily they came to terms with this. Part of her thinks she should be insulted or angry, hating herself for finding a compromise. It might come later.
She rubs the back of her neck, and makes herself say the thing she doesn't want to.
"Will you tell her about him?"
Can't quite speak his name. Coward. She could say nothing but for five years of her life, but the feelings are messy, complicated. In a way, she'd be glad not to have to explain why she killed him to Clarisse.
Ellie works her mouth, drops her gaze to her blankets, and picks at a stray thread. She still doesn't want to look at Abby when she says it. Is relieved when she doesn't say his name.
She still can't stand the thought of Joel's name in Abby's mouth. It no longer feels like a betrayal to sit here and speak to her, but that doesn't mean she can stomach it easily.
Abby took him from her, and Ellie is rapidly running out of steam to continue this conversation. Her fingertips are tingling.
Abby nods, in lieu of saying anything. There's a coppery taste in her mouth, blood-like and familiar, the tang that accompanies clenching her jaw for too long. She tries to relax, but she has to be actively thinking about it to do it. That's impossible with Ellie sitting there on her bed not saying anything and staring hard at a thread, picking. She probably wishes she could do that to Abby. Pluck her out, and toss her away.
Time for her to go.
"Ellie." It slips out, quiet and thoughtless. Abby furrows her brow, grasping at loose ends.
"Thanks," is what she settles on, "For- talking."
It's not easy, but they're doing it. They're making space for it to happen, that isn't nothing.
Abby saying her name is a quiet shock, a sting against her nerves, especially because it sounds so gentle. It draws Ellie's eyes up from the top of her blanket, her scarred fingertips, back to Abby's face.
It flusters her, but not in a way that feels terrible.
"Yeah," she says. It's an awkward feeling. But... good, too. Yeah. They both are trying, aren't they. "You too. Thanks."
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She rubs the back of her neck, and makes herself say the thing she doesn't want to.
"Will you tell her about him?"
Can't quite speak his name. Coward. She could say nothing but for five years of her life, but the feelings are messy, complicated. In a way, she'd be glad not to have to explain why she killed him to Clarisse.
no subject
She still can't stand the thought of Joel's name in Abby's mouth. It no longer feels like a betrayal to sit here and speak to her, but that doesn't mean she can stomach it easily.
Abby took him from her, and Ellie is rapidly running out of steam to continue this conversation. Her fingertips are tingling.
"Yeah," she says softly.
no subject
Time for her to go.
"Ellie." It slips out, quiet and thoughtless. Abby furrows her brow, grasping at loose ends.
"Thanks," is what she settles on, "For- talking."
It's not easy, but they're doing it. They're making space for it to happen, that isn't nothing.
no subject
It flusters her, but not in a way that feels terrible.
"Yeah," she says. It's an awkward feeling. But... good, too. Yeah. They both are trying, aren't they. "You too. Thanks."