In a way, coming to Paradisa might have been her chance at a fresh start. A chance to let go of the ghosts of the past that constantly followed her around and haunted her every waking thought, even still. To break free of that toxic cycle of betrayal and avoidance, of lies and secrets, that had chronicled almost her entire life. To make things right this time.
But she blew it. Again.
No matter what, she only seemed to drag other people down with her. She'd dragged Spike, the one person she never wanted to hurt, into the most spectacular mess imaginable (and disappeared from his life for three years without so much as even a goodbye, much less an explanation), only to turn right around and do it again. She'd even dragged Vicious with her when all she'd wanted was a high, something to take her out of her mundane, going-through-the-motions existence and feel alive, even for half a second. And now she'd dragged Gwaine.
What the hell did that make her?
Someone who didn't deserve to break free of the traps she set for herself without thinking time and time again, that's what. The worst kind of person. No, she felt she deserved every last bit of what she got. The sting, the constant dull ache in her chest wouldn't even begin to be enough to make up for it.
It's a long time before she even registers that he'd said anything. So long one might wonder if she'd even heard him at all. But there's evidence to the contrary when a barely audible, almost broken half-whisper ventures into the silence once again.
no subject
But she blew it. Again.
No matter what, she only seemed to drag other people down with her. She'd dragged Spike, the one person she never wanted to hurt, into the most spectacular mess imaginable (and disappeared from his life for three years without so much as even a goodbye, much less an explanation), only to turn right around and do it again. She'd even dragged Vicious with her when all she'd wanted was a high, something to take her out of her mundane, going-through-the-motions existence and feel alive, even for half a second. And now she'd dragged Gwaine.
What the hell did that make her?
Someone who didn't deserve to break free of the traps she set for herself without thinking time and time again, that's what. The worst kind of person. No, she felt she deserved every last bit of what she got. The sting, the constant dull ache in her chest wouldn't even begin to be enough to make up for it.
It's a long time before she even registers that he'd said anything. So long one might wonder if she'd even heard him at all. But there's evidence to the contrary when a barely audible, almost broken half-whisper ventures into the silence once again.
"It wasn't your fault."