@amber_is_in_a_loop
(Niiice)
Mare silently shook her head, packing up her things. She looked up to see an unimaginable worry on Marianne's face. She choked out a laugh and set a hand on her shoulder.
(Niiice)
Mare silently shook her head, packing up her things. She looked up to see an unimaginable worry on Marianne's face. She choked out a laugh and set a hand on her shoulder.
:D
“Mare, answer me..” she whispered, wishing she could take hold of the other girl’s hand. “How are you sick? What’s going on?”
Trembling, Mare shrugged. The fact she was one word away from admitting the one thing that had above all, for so long, weighed her down to someone who meant enough to her to be a huge loss if pushed away by this thing, this sickness— she wasn't sure she could handle it.
"I don't know, can't really know. I don't know."
There was real fear in Marianne’s eyes as her brain jumped to the worst possible conclusions. Cancer? Was she going to die? Leaning in, she whispered an offer. “Let’s skip this period. Go somewhere else. Maybe then you can tell me what’s going on?”
Mare didn't want to admit anything, or get into the details, but she wanted even less to sit though another hour of class. She nodded and shoved her bag into her lock, very, very slowly walking towards the doors.
Marianne followed, anxiously glancing around to check if they’d been caught. They hadn’t, yet, so she forced her shoulders to relax as she caught up with Mare.
They walked out into the warm sunlight, gold specks dancing along their skin and dull grey uniforms. It was an illusory beautiful day.
Mare stopped about 150 yards from the school and lay down on the grass, silently patting the spot next to her for Marianne to join her.
Marianne obliged, studying Mare’s face for any clue. After a pause, she squinted up at the bright sun and heaved a sigh.
"Ballet teachers are completely tactless," Mare started, unsure of how to initiate this conversation.
Confused, Marianne gave a helpless shrug. “I wouldn’t know.”
(aahgh I feel so bad cause both of my characters are controlling the stories)
"Right." Mare looked over at Marianne. "They say the most insensitive things. I do not remember a class where no one cried."
(It’s fine, dw about it!)
Marianne nodded in baffled agreement, though she really just wanted to cut right to the chase. “Right.”
"And my Academy stopped making sizes over 10. Which is crazy because it's an all ages school." Mare could sense Marianne's anticipation, and it rivalled her own. But she went on.
“That does seem crazy,” she admitted, tugging anxiously at a curl of her hair.
Mare bit her lip. "You're anxious," she finally pointed out.
“Yeah,” she agreed quietly.
Mare sighed guiltily. "I'm sorry. I don't know how to say this."
"Don't be sorry." Marianne replied, trying to keep her tone as even as possible. "Just.. say it. I don't want you to worry."
"Don't be sorry." Marianne replied, trying to keep her tone as even as possible. "Just.. say it. I don't want you to worry."
"My dad doesn't want to diagnose it or take me to the doctor. I just… can't eat." Mare shut her eyes and rolled away from Marianne.
Marianne froze, something unidentifiable clouding her eyes. "What do you mean? Physically can't eat? Or….?"
(i feel so small next to your writing oml)
Mare clenched her fists and dug them into the ground, unfeeling towards the branches and stones scratching against her skin. "I can't keep keep it down. I… I want to. But I can't." That's not true. She ignored her conscience, still not turning back to face Marianne. You know it's not true.
(Wdym?)
“Mare— that’s dangerous, isn’t it?? If you can’t eat? Do you just— throw it up each time?” A question lingered in her mind, one that she didn’t dare voice yet. Do you really want to keep it down?
(well its so freakin good)
Mare shut herself off, something she hated and only did in desperate measures. Marianne was smart, she'd figure it out but most all she… She sounded scared. And Mare couldn't bear being the cause of that. She stood.
"We better get back," she said quietly and started walking towards the school at a brisk pace.
(Aw thank you! That’s exactly how I feel about you)
Marianne caught up, fueled by a sudden burst of desperation. She grabbed hold of her girlfriend’s arm, anchoring her in place. “Mare—“
The following keyboard controls are supported across Notebook.ai. All keyboard controls are disabled when editing a document or notebook page.