[ A painful thread of longing aches in her stomach, gnaws at her chest. Her legs feel as heavy as lead, blood pooling as if readying to sprint away across the beach suddenly foolish and embarrassed. She feels as if his tone is one you might take with a child, gently explaining that the fairy tales of fantasy and romance where the prince finds happiness and the kingdom has peace and the saint finds her quiet retirement in the countryside exist only in storybooks.
Duty or fate weighs heavy on them, she feels it slipping back around her neck like a leash yanking a feral dog. Like a noose where only one end is possible and inevitable. Her voice is so thin, it almost cracks when she speaks. ]
It's not fair.
[ For as much responsibility weighs on Alina's shoulders, it's easy to forget that she is young and impulsive and impatient, that her tone wouldn't seem out of place stomping her feet and petulant.
Her hands slip across his forearms, gripping them to steady herself. It isn't fair, like any of her life could be considered anything close to fair, but this is the closest thing to it, a wide open path full of choices in front of her and she is greedy and desperate to hold onto it. ]
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Duty or fate weighs heavy on them, she feels it slipping back around her neck like a leash yanking a feral dog. Like a noose where only one end is possible and inevitable. Her voice is so thin, it almost cracks when she speaks. ]
It's not fair.
[ For as much responsibility weighs on Alina's shoulders, it's easy to forget that she is young and impulsive and impatient, that her tone wouldn't seem out of place stomping her feet and petulant.
Her hands slip across his forearms, gripping them to steady herself. It isn't fair, like any of her life could be considered anything close to fair, but this is the closest thing to it, a wide open path full of choices in front of her and she is greedy and desperate to hold onto it. ]