He was the first person she'd actually gone out of her way to talk to - she'd spent five months barely talking to her coworkers, to the cashiers at the grocery, to people who actually approached her trying to be friendly. Then she realised she couldn't live like that. She couldn't do it - and that's when she'd seen him sitting on the curb with Alfredo.
She's stirring the eggs - they're on a low, low heat, and she's watching them before she adds a shitton of butter - the unflavored kind.
Finally, she looks over at him, and her eyes are shiny with unshed tears, and she just shakes her head once before she looks back down at the eggs. No. She's stirring them as she takes them off the heat, holding the pain away from the still on burner. She has no idea what she's hiding from, and it makes this so much worse. Every person she meets could be the one that if they knew her name, or if they noticed her...
"But I make do," she finally says thickly, because that's not what this is about. She clears her throat, not knowing what else to say besides, "What else would you like to know?"
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She's stirring the eggs - they're on a low, low heat, and she's watching them before she adds a shitton of butter - the unflavored kind.
Finally, she looks over at him, and her eyes are shiny with unshed tears, and she just shakes her head once before she looks back down at the eggs. No. She's stirring them as she takes them off the heat, holding the pain away from the still on burner. She has no idea what she's hiding from, and it makes this so much worse. Every person she meets could be the one that if they knew her name, or if they noticed her...
"But I make do," she finally says thickly, because that's not what this is about. She clears her throat, not knowing what else to say besides, "What else would you like to know?"