DAY THIRTY-SIX
FEBRUARY 5TH 2016
PROMPT: "Break" [one day]
She didn't want to do it. For a moment she had intended to refuse, but she knew this was beyond her control. She had started this now, and for better or for worse, she had started with the intent to finish. If doing this meant getting there, then what choice did she have? Running, that was a choice. Refusing, shouting, so many more choices than to agree to let them see her break. Because she would, wouldn't she? That was what it did to her, every time.
But she forged ahead, and she read the words, the letter she had sent her father, and when it was over, right when it could all have gone to pieces, she felt it.
A hand, on her shoulder.
Lucas.
The moment she felt his touch, without realizing it, she expelled a breath, the one that bore her fears, and took in another, this one carrying relief, warmth. She had done it, and she had not broken. Her pieces were still hers to hold. It could have come from others; this room was rich with people who made her feel safe and cared for, but it had been him, and that had felt like so much more than a simple touch. He was beholder of loaded silences, and his touch was topped to the brim with meaning. She only hoped he knew what that meaning represented to her, too.
See you tomorrow! - mooners