... It's ok. [It's not ok. It's like a bucket of cold water, or a knife to the heart. It shocks her, and makes her want to rush to him and wrap him in hugs and protect him.
But. It wasn't real. Not any more.] ... I'm still trying to-- sort it out, myself.
...
How... are you doing? [She moves across the room, looking to occupy a chair near his bed. She is purposefully slow in her actions, as if to defy her desires.]
[Action, October 16th]
But. It wasn't real. Not any more.] ... I'm still trying to-- sort it out, myself.
...
How... are you doing? [She moves across the room, looking to occupy a chair near his bed. She is purposefully slow in her actions, as if to defy her desires.]