because no one's wanted to even been seen with me before so i'm not used to talking about shit. i am learning how to do this and what's--- what's normal?( shittily, he's realising. )
[this helps. hearing it helps. she knows this is stupid; she knows this is hysterically insecure, that it's embarrassing, mortifying, that it's not what they signed up for.
she wishes she had her shit together. she wishes she wasn't always losing it.]
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that part i see we fucked up on and should have said shit but where the fuck did the rest of it come from?
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I'm yours, princess. No question about that.
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He drags himself into voice. It's obviously thick and frenetic with everything that goes unsaid: ] You already know. You know I'm yours.
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she wishes she had her shit together. she wishes she wasn't always losing it.]
I'm yours. [theirs. ]
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nervous laughter about where all this is going
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Sleep on it.
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