[that almost makes him burst into tears, actually! the warmth in his smile, the attempt to reassure him. Livio somehow keeps it in, wringing his hands together again, helplessly.
there's nothing they can do about the memories, about the what-ifs. time is painful, it doesn't do more than dry little scabs on your wounds. and now it's being washed away.]
no subject
there's nothing they can do about the memories, about the what-ifs. time is painful, it doesn't do more than dry little scabs on your wounds. and now it's being washed away.]
I'm not crying. It'll be fine.