Baby-steps.
I keep telling myself that, but why do I still get so frustrated?
Yes, Lara talks again, whoop-tie-doo, but it's at most one sentence, and the topic of Yamatai is very artfully avoided. If straight-up ignoring me and slamming a door in my face is considered an act of supreme creativity, that is.
I just want to brush my foot against her door in a very unladylike manner and get past that looming mountain. I generally do not like the awkward tension in our conversations… you know?
It's... disconcerting.
It feels like, what we have is not quite friendship. Not really, it's more something like... well, like we're roommates and are forced to live together and be civil even though we want to make each other eat our fists?
Not quite that violent, although sometimes I feel like she is imagining throwing me off of a cliff. Or, I shudder every time I get this thought, leaving me behind in the cold grasp of Himeko.
It's insane, it's unhealthy.
But I remember seeing her so broken, and I know she's not angry at me.
Not really.
She's mad at the world, at Mathias and the Solarii and Whitman and Himeko. But mostly at herself.
And you know what?
She should be. Angry at me. Because without me, this would not have happened.
If I had not been so weak... If I had not been so scared.
I call for an appointment, but my fingers dial a different number.
Sam?
"Lara. I- Can you please come?" I hate how small my voice is. I hate how it breaks on her name and every word.
I hate how I need her while she needs me more.