[ Matt opens his mouth as though to protest, the words 'I haven't gone anywhere' very nearly leaving his lips before something (guilt? yeah, it's very likely guilt) holds them back.
He swallows instead, countless apologies and rainchecks, unanswered texts and voice messages swirling in his memory, each one an additional fracture compounding against what he'd taken for granted as an unbreakable bond between them. But that's not how friendship works. It's not how loving someone works.
Wanda slides her fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes, lets out a breath, and leans forward just a fraction towards her; it's barely noticeable, but it's there. He can hear her heart beating like a butterfly's wings against her rib cage, waiting for him to say the right thing. He doesn't want to fuck this up.
And then she moves her hand ever still, sliding down his arm to catch at his hand and nestle herself in the space between his palm and the warm porcelain.
He breathes out again.
Putting the mug down, Matt's fingers still over-warm from the tea, he turns his hand to grasp at hers and hold it in place; his thumb gently grazes against her skin, and he finds his voice — and a better truth comes out. ]
no subject
He swallows instead, countless apologies and rainchecks, unanswered texts and voice messages swirling in his memory, each one an additional fracture compounding against what he'd taken for granted as an unbreakable bond between them. But that's not how friendship works. It's not how loving someone works.
Wanda slides her fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes, lets out a breath, and leans forward just a fraction towards her; it's barely noticeable, but it's there. He can hear her heart beating like a butterfly's wings against her rib cage, waiting for him to say the right thing. He doesn't want to fuck this up.
And then she moves her hand ever still, sliding down his arm to catch at his hand and nestle herself in the space between his palm and the warm porcelain.
He breathes out again.
Putting the mug down, Matt's fingers still over-warm from the tea, he turns his hand to grasp at hers and hold it in place; his thumb gently grazes against her skin, and he finds his voice — and a better truth comes out. ]
I missed you too. And I'm sorry.