[He presses his face into her shoulder, affirming that she's there, that despite confusion and pain, they're connecting. Can still connect. Still want to connect. Delicate hearts break like glass and yet the pieces are picked up and it tries to love again.]
I was raised all my life to be a thing. I never liked it. [He huffs, softly, through his nose. Thinking of being surrounded by men who didn't look at him but observed him instead.]
no subject
I was raised all my life to be a thing. I never liked it. [He huffs, softly, through his nose. Thinking of being surrounded by men who didn't look at him but observed him instead.]
I prefer being your brother.