[ Memory is an unreliable guide at best, but she collects the fragments he allows to escape just the same. Now, personal interpretation of another's memory is even less trustworthy, she thinks quietly of an intentional accident, the disappointment in finding oneself inhaling the sweetest gasp of air yet. Alive, still alive. ]
It was my father's. [ To answer his question. She turns it more personal than he meant, all while distancing herself from it. It's not hers, whatever significance the symbol held for him, but it is more hers for the parental bond. Either way, enough about her-- ]
You're so . . . [ She crosses her arms, fixing him an unwavering look. ] Resigned.
no subject
It was my father's. [ To answer his question. She turns it more personal than he meant, all while distancing herself from it. It's not hers, whatever significance the symbol held for him, but it is more hers for the parental bond. Either way, enough about her-- ]
You're so . . . [ She crosses her arms, fixing him an unwavering look. ] Resigned.