[ She wakes with purposeful silence, dejavu giving rise to paranoia. What was it that girl in the kitchen had said? That hell would be reliving the worst day of your life over and over? She reaches under her pillow and finds no knife there.
She lets go of a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding– today is not that day.
She does not get up until he has turned back around. That's not a strategic choice, it's just how it happens.
She stands, blearily gazing about the room. Her eyes land on the vase of fresh flowers that always seemed to reappear no matter how many times she threw them out. ]
1/3
She lets go of a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding– today is not that day.
She does not get up until he has turned back around. That's not a strategic choice, it's just how it happens.
She stands, blearily gazing about the room. Her eyes land on the vase of fresh flowers that always seemed to reappear no matter how many times she threw them out. ]