The hopes and dreams and expectations of others are weighing her down, and as much as she clutches against her lover, there is nothing that can take away the terrible, terrible pressure, nothing that can distract her from the way her heart is aching.
"Be still, my love. It'll all be okay in the end." She smiles a gentle smile even as she lies through her teeth.
"You're named after a prophetess whom no-one ever believed. I don't believe you now, but I hope, desperately, that you are truly like that Cassandra. That your prophecy is true. Just not believed."
"It's nice to hear that you've been paying attention to my stories."
"Of course I have. They're amazing. Like you."
"Flatterer." The older woman laughs softly.
"It's true." Her smile is truly innocent, and, in the moment of perfect peace, of joy and wonder and love, she has all but forgotten her worries and her pains and her troubles. She cannot feel the heartache and she cannot hear the nagging demands of those who so desperately need her help, those who are tearing her down without trying, without even realizing.
When she is with Cassandra, Carol can finally breathe again.
A/N: I don't know about you, but I'm pretty impressed by the sheer twistedness of this pairing.
~Mademise Morte, August 1