She doesn't want to hurt him, but she doesn't want to be hurt either - not like this hurts. She doesn't let herself think of it to avoid exactly this, doesn't let herself be as angry as she had been then.
But like him, she can't stop it. She can only decide what to try to do with it, and she nods, because she knows.
"I made it for him. I gave it to him, the week before the run on the Savior outpost, that first one," she says, quietly, almost a mumble to hide how brittle her voice sounds. "You know what he said to me? He smiled, not that big stupid one when everyone groaned about making dick jokes. A different one. One I believed could mean he was happy, and he looked at me and he said -"
She swallows, her throat dry and full of glass shards. "He said, Rosita Espinosa, you are damn near perfection, you know that?"
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But like him, she can't stop it. She can only decide what to try to do with it, and she nods, because she knows.
"I made it for him. I gave it to him, the week before the run on the Savior outpost, that first one," she says, quietly, almost a mumble to hide how brittle her voice sounds. "You know what he said to me? He smiled, not that big stupid one when everyone groaned about making dick jokes. A different one. One I believed could mean he was happy, and he looked at me and he said -"
She swallows, her throat dry and full of glass shards. "He said, Rosita Espinosa, you are damn near perfection, you know that?"