ATOM.

shadowsurrounded:

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           his pain causes her no pleasure, any more than yelling at him. her fingers twist until her knuckles turn white, teeth gnawing on lip sharply. she knows her words were harsh, and yet they needed to be said, out of sheer desire to be honest if nothing else. too much had been left unspoken in the duration of their marriage, creating more toxicity than any outside enemy or unseen force. 

           her tirade over and done with, clea finds herself calmer, less defensive and emotionally spent. shoulders lean against the wall, taking advantage of the slight moment of silence to close her eyes and breathe measured breaths. once calmed, she inches forward ever so slightly, intent on keeping her distance should her presence be deemed as unwelcome. clea feels like wincing at the defeat on his face and the hurt in his tone, and drops her gaze to the floor for a moment, before glancing at her husband through lashes, silver strands falling in her vision. she could say that, this time, she does not want to leave. she could say that, even if they never were what they had once been, that she values his friendship whether or not they choose to try and love each other again or not. she could say that, if given the opportunity, she would love to fix them, if he would but let her.        what do you want from me? i’ve told you that my feelings have never changed. i’ve already told you, twice during this conversation, that my love for you never died, in spite of our separation. the question isnt whether i want to fix this stephen, it’s whether you want to.       

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              listening to her words stephen swallowed, unused to having.. relationships, depend entirely on himself. he didn’t take the lead as much as follow his partner, or be cast aside, in their situation. he was unused to making such decisions, and that showed upon his features as he considered.

glancing to his.. wife, stephen could not help by how seeing her was nothing short of ice water in the desert. she was something that he desperately needed to — no, he didn’t need her to survive, not anymore. wordlessly he moved back to the couch, sitting heavily upon it’s well-worn fabric, head going to hang between his shoulders as his hands held his hair. thinking about this was causing him to regrettably worry, that if he made the wrong decision, he’d ruin the both of them more-so than clea did him. shaking his head he’d huff, glancing towards her shoes as he could not find the strength to life his head — to look at her, in the eye.   “   i need.. time, clea, to think.   ”   he could not make such a choice, not right away.



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