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i'm desperate for a messy sydney sweeney fc to 1x1 with on discord hmu

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He couldn't very well follow her. The guards wouldn't have liked that, and she knew it, so he assumed she meant he needed to stop her with his words. Miles knew he wasn't capable of that. He was too stubborn, and more importantly, he didn't believe a word she said. He'd grown up watching the on-again-off-again relationship between his parents, and over time he began to expect women to come back to him... even if he had to beg them a little bit. If she wanted to leave, he'd just deal with the consequences later. "Tell my baby I love her," he said flatly. Miles had a feeling she wouldn't deliver the message, and it made him angry, but he couldn't control her from behind bars. He'd just have to wait until he was a free man again.

kiki wanted more, more love. love that she didn't feel as though she were getting from miles. their conversations seemed to go like this more times than not. she stared at him for a moment, not thrilled by the words that slipped out of his mouth but really, she hadn't enjoyed anything he said during this meeting. "if you let me walk out this door, i'm not coming back. i mean it this time." she didn't know why she was still standing there but she was obviously hoping for too much."

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"I'm slut shaming you? What the fuck is that?" he asked, scoffing as the words came out. "What, I'm shaming you for being a slut? Is that something we can't do anymore?" he resisted the urge to laugh. "Yeah, you're being a slut. Am I supposed to just let you do it? Fuck that," he told her. The last two words came out a lot harsher than the others. Miles leaned back in his seat, and reached into his back pocket to get a cigarette. Then he lit, and exhaled a cloud of smoke, directing it upward so it wouldn't float into her face. "The fact you feel entitled to be mad at me right now is what's fucking funny. You got a lot of fucking nerve."

Of course he was angry and she wished she had just denied it. She didn't even want to know how he had found out. "You did have a choice!" Sofia snapped, not wanting to raised her voice because no doubt everyone would end up staring at them. She didn't want to cause a scene. "You knew what you were doing, you knew you could have gotten caught. You're allowed to end up in prison because you were trying to 'provide' for your family by breaking the law, yet I'm the bad guy here? I'm trying my best, do you have any idea how fucking hard it is? To pay the bills, to put her in to kindergarten, to make sure she has everything. I'm trying my best, and you slut shaming me isn't going to help."

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"Fuckin' dramatic," he mumbled as he watched her standing in front of him, waiting for her to leave like she said she would. She always had to have the last word, which he figured he'd let her have this time, but that didn't mean he thought she was right about any of this. It stung to hear how little she thought of him as a father, but he couldn't prove otherwise in the position he was in either. He'd just have to bide his time, and prove it when he was out. "Go on, go find someone else then," he nodded his head toward the door as he spoke. "Since you deserve so much better."

the man in front of her was truly infuriating. what she saw in him was a mystery to her but she assumed that the reason she felt the way she did about him was because he was her first everything. that meant something to her, regardless of the way he treated her. rolling her eyes at his words, she scoffed. "so, you'll probably just write her off then. she'll be just like me. so there's no use in either of us coming to see you or contacting you. i mean, after all, i'm a whore right?" she threw his words back at him. "like i said before she won't know what i do to support her. she doesn't have to know and i sure as hell hope she grows up to know better than to fall in love with a guy who treats her the way you treat me."

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"What do you want from me, Sofia? You think I wanna be here and not there?" he asked. "I'm not some fucking deadbeat, okay. I'm serving my fucking time, and when I get out, I'll make it up to her." He knew he was telling the truth about that. Despite his shortcomings, he loved his daughter, and he felt like he wanted what was best for her... even though sometimes it seemed like he didn't know what that was. "Fuck you, Sof, that's fucking low of you to act like I'd rather be here, or like I'm doing this just to avoid her. I don't have a fucking choice," he snapped.

Sofia didn't know why she had told him in the first place, maybe because she was nervous he would find out through someone else. "But yet her knowing her dad's in prison, that's okay?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, she knew this could backfire at her. But she was making money, she wasn't doing anything overly sexual. He was making it out as though she was fucking men on street corners for money. "At least I thought my decision through, I know that one day she'll ask. I'm still the parent that's there for her, who's making sure she has everything she needs. She's fed, she's clothed, she can have presents on her birthday and christmas. What are you doing for that? What are you doing to help raise our daughter?"

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"An apology for what?" he asked, noticing the way she seemed to shift in her seat like she planned to leave. It bothered him that he couldn't make her stay. He couldn't really do anything from the position he was in, and if he really thought about it, that was what angered him the most. He'd put himself in this position too, so he couldn't be angry with her for it... but he was stubborn and he'd probably find away. "Leave then. Go fuck up our daughter," he decided, trying to take back his power by telling her to do what she intended. He sat back in his seat and watched her gathering her things. Miles liked to think she'd come crawling back, but he never could be sure about that while he was locked up. He'd just have to wait and see. "Don't blame me if she grows up and starts doing the exact same shit you do."

kiki was tired of him talking to her like that over and over again. this wasn't how a relationship was supposed to be but then again, she knew everything wasn't a fairytale. regardless of that, she couldn't keep letting this happen. she couldn't keep letting him take jabs at her. "no, miles. i'm not going to sit down. you can't control me." she replied, "i deserve an apology if you expect me to stay." and even so, she doubted he'd give her one and so, she shifted to reach down beside her chair and grab her bag. their relationship was difficult and she wasn't the perfect partner either. she knew her decision to start an only fans wasn't fair and maybe she'd go back on it but she didn't know what else to do. she'd exhausted all possible choices.

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"Well... I may be lucky"—he said as he pulled away from her, only so he could resume his duties—"'cause you ain't got no business wasting all that time waiting on me." Jack felt like he could speak to her the way he used to, falling into his version of banter, which was almost always littered with unsolicited advice, and petty directives. If he really thought about it, he wouldn't have wanted her if she were the type of girl to take every bit of it seriously. He grabbed the bucket, and took a few strides in her direction. Then he ducked low enough to steal a quick kiss on her lips. "Now come on, help me feed these damn chickens," he cussed again, this time not giving it much thought. If she didn't chastise him for it, his mother surely would. Jack walked across the barn to the big opening in front, directly across from the hen house. He always took big strides, because his legs were so much longer than everyone else's, but he only ever noticed if he was walking next to a woman. He'd find himself having to slow to what felt like a creep to him, just so she could briskly walk at his side... otherwise she'd be running to keep up.

He thought twice, then turned around. Jack leaned to one side so he could set the bucket down again, then he retraced his steps until he was in front of her again. His hands took her head, and he lowered himself plenty so he could kiss her... this time the right way. A simple peck didn't feel like enough for them right now. He'd been wanting this kiss for six years now, and he was going to get it.

she  struggles  to  comprehend  how  he  could  welcome  her  back  into  his  life  so  readily,  but  she  has  no  intention  of  rejecting  it.  the  past  is  unchangeable,  and  she  cannot  undo  her  mistakes  even  if  she  desired  to.  so  why  remain  enslaved  to  her  regrets  when  she  can  channel  her  energy  into  the  present  instead?  "you  could  still  shed  a  few  tears  if  you  wanted."  she  jokes,  before  wiping  away  the  remnants  of  moisture  on  her  cheeks  with  a  smile.  it's  time  to  release  the  burden  of  guilt  she  has  been  carrying.  they  wasted  years  apart,  and  now  she  is  determined  to  shape  their  future  chapters  into  ones  filled  with  happiness.  of  course,  perfection  is  an  illusion,  but  she  has  a  strong  belief  that  they  will  be  alright  as  long  as  they  stand  by  each  other's  side.  "you  should  have."  she  agrees  with  a  nod.  even  though  his  mother  has  always  been  the  type  to  mind  her  own  business  —  a  cherished  rarity  in  a  town  teeming  with  nosy  residents,  as  is  often  the  case  in  small  mundane  towns  like  theirs  —  she  would  have  undoubtedly  noticed  if  something  as  significant  as  a  wedding  had  occurred.  "she'd  know  i  definitely  wasn't  married."  aurora  laughs,  finding  the  idea  absurd  given  that  the  few  dates  she  had  been  on  all  led  to  dead  ends.  aware  that  her  heart  belonged  elsewhere,  aurora  wasn't  the  type  to  waste  someone  else's  time  and  would  swiftly  end  things  before  the  other  person  invested  more  of  their  time  and  energy.  "i  would've  minded,"  she  pauses,  only  for  the  sake  of  teasing  him.  "  —  if  you'd  said  otherwise."  she  has  no  right  to  blame  him  if  his  feelings  have  changed  after  the  passing  years,  but  before  complete  acceptance  settles  in,  sadness  will  seize  her  first.  she  gazes  into  his  eyes  and  it  feels  almost  surreal  to  hear  those  words  from  him  again.  "i  still  love  you  too."

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"Yeah, it wasn't from fighting this time," he admitted, laughing slightly as he spoke. His eyes swept over her, and he leaned back against the wall of the hospital. "Those scrubs actually comfortable? I always thought it looked like you're wearing pajamas to work," he included, changing the subject as a way to distract himself from why he was there. He didn't want Josh to bring him to the hospital, and he definitely didn't like that Josh seemed to disappear now that he was here, but he couldn't do anything about that now. "Yeah, sure," he refocused his thoughts as he leaned forward again, tilting his head and wincing at the way the shifting of the nerves in his neck seemed to make the pain feel worse. "I mean, I was fighting, but I was on my way home. The sore loser jumped me. Fucking prick," he rambled, giving the same recount he'd given the social worker. "Pretty sure he pistol whipped me or something, because this shit fucking hurts," he explained. Miles knew where he was, and he knew what he was saying, so he almost felt guilty for talking about his pain. The woman in the bed beside him had been begging for Dilaudid ever since he'd arrived, and she certainly wouldn't get it, because she always came looking for it. There was no chance he'd get anything for pain management either, but he wasn't asking.

Glancing up from the computer to the social worker in front of her, Lissa let out a small laugh before glancing at her coworker. "This is the one. He's.. something else." The blonde confirmed and looked back at the social worker with a nod as she spoke. "I will. You know he's going to say no but I'll ask. Maybe this time will be lucky number 9." Lissa let out a laugh. She wasn't hopeful. It was always the same routine with them and there was more chance of winning the lottery. After finishing what she was doing, she headed over to Miles' bed with a polite smile. "Miles. We have to stop meeting like this." They'd seen each other enough times that the usual pleasantries of introducing herself were pointless. "As always my name is Elizabeth. You may call me Lissa." She hated saying it but her real name sounded more professional, or so her seniors told her. "I hear you have a head wound. May I take a look?

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"'course I was," he mumbled. Then he slowly pulled away from her, only so he could look in her eyes. "You see me crying 'bout it now? I ain't." Jack didn't think it made any sense for him to hold a grudge... especially not now. He'd decided he could live with a broken heart, but he knew better than to be bitter about it. There were too many other things he felt bitter about. He'd seen, and done, and lost too much since he'd been gone. The least he could do was lose her too. He didn't go looking for her, because he wasn't the kind of man to make a fool out of himself. If she didn't write him, it was because she didn't want to hear from him, and because she didn't want to be heard. The fact she wasn't married was a big surprise to him, because he was certain at this point that she had a husband, and babies, and a new life that wouldn't involve him. In fact it felt strange to have to try and rewrite all of that now... to undo an assumption he'd held true for almost five years.

"I never asked ma about you... maybe I should have," he said, feeling a little stupid now. His mother wasn't the least bit nosy, and didn't keep up with happenings around town. She kept to herself, in her house, and kept at the chickens and the garden. She'd always been that way, so there was a chance that even if he had asked, she wouldn't have known. "Or sis," he continued, feeling that would have been a more sensible source of information. "You know my sister's in her own world over there though," he resisted a laugh, knowing how the young woman had a tendency to make things about herself. "I missed you too," he spoke softly as he touched both sides of her face, looking in her eyes for the first time in such a long time. "I still love you," he confessed. "Hope you don't mind."

"not  even  once?"  aurora  wonders  if  she  shouldn't  have  asked  the  question  at  all,  regretting  it  as  soon  as  the  words  leave  her  mouth.  perhaps  it's  better  for  her  to  remain  oblivious.  if  he  was  angry  with  her  before,  he  certainly  doesn't  seem  to  hold  any  resentment  now.  perhaps  the  joy  of  their  reunion  has  washed  away  those  unpleasant  feelings,  at  least  for  the  moment.  "i  thought  you  might  be  too  furious  to  see  me,"  she  admits,  recognizing  that  it's  unfair  for  her  to  hope  he  would  be  the  one  to  break  the  ice  when  she's  the  one  responsible  for  creating  this  divide,  even  if  unintentionally.  the  fact  remains  that  harm  has  been  done,  even  if  he  chooses  not  to  hold  grudges.  she  has  resolved  to  make  things  right,  and  coming  here  was  the  first  step,  even  though  she  had  no  idea  what  to  expect.  she  feels  fortunate  that  things  haven't  taken  a  turn  for  the  worse,  but  rather  for  the  better.  "i'm  not  crying,"  she  tries  to  deny  it,  her  futile  attempt  met  with  the  sound  of  her  chuckle  echoing  his  laughter.  but  if  she  is  indeed  shedding  tears,  they  are  tears  of  happiness,  and  she's  more  than  content  with  that.  as  she  relaxes  in  his  tight  embrace,  the  echoes  of  her  worries  fade  away,  and  his  presence  grounds  her.  perhaps,  no  matter  how  much  they  have  both  changed,  parts  of  their souls  will always  recognise  each  other  anywhere.  "i've  missed  you,"  she  admits,  her  voice  filled  with  longing,  even  for  his  silly  laughter,  his  foolish  jokes,  and  the  protective  coldness  he  wears  as  a  shield  before  his  facade  cracks.  "i've  missed  you  so  much."

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Miles showed his teeth in a laugh when she mentioned her elaborate plan to keep his whereabouts a secret from their daughter. He remembered visiting his own father in prison lots of times, and he hated his father, but he still made the time to see him from time to time. Now that he was the one behind bars, he never got visits from family other than Kiki, so to him this was important. Sure he was unkind when he spoke to her, but he felt like he had reason to be. This was the mother of his little girl, and he hated the thought of anyone looking at his little girl the way he looked at other women... so Kiki's new financial arrangement just wasn't acceptable to him, and it never would be. "Sit down," he said firmly, like he was talking to a child who was throwing a tantrum. There was a chance she wouldn't, but it was worth a try.

"locked up. she's going to wonder why her dad can't come home with her or why you have to stay here. i don't know how to explain that to her. so, for right now, you're on vacation until i can find a better way to tell her." kiki leaned her head back, eyes closed as he went off yet again and she didn't know why she was still sitting here listening to it. "i never said i was ashamed of you-" she stopped, head snapping in his direction and pushing herself up from her seat. "you know what? i'm done. with this. with us. all of it. i'm not doing this with you anymore. this isn't how our visitation should go but it seems to be the same fucking thing every time and i'm tired of sitting here while you shit on me for everything." hot tears of frustration finally made an appearance as she glared down at him. "don't look for me next time visitation comes around because i can promise you, i won't be back."

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No but fr are the tags broken?

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closed starter for @cruelsummerx

Twenty-six year old white male presented to the ER accompanied by friend Josh who reports patient sustained posterior head injury. Per Josh, patient was 'jumped' on his way home from work. Triage nurse Tiffany observed head wound which does not appear to be severe. Triage nurse provided patient with ice pack. Patient reports he has visited this ER eight times in the last two years for 'street fighting'. Patient has scattering of bruises and mild lacerations across his face at varying levels of healing. No intervention was needed. Patient does not report history of substance abuse, and appears alert and oriented times four at this time. Patient was advised to monitor head wound, and triage nurse educated on symptoms of a concussion, and intracranial hematoma. Patient was educated on right to complete a police report, but refused. Patient does not currently meet criteria for general inpatient level of care. Patient declines further intervention.

"I'm fucking fine. I'm alright," Miles snapped at the social worker. "No, I don't wanna file a police report. I said I'm fine." He was sitting on a hospital bed in the hallway of the Emergency Room. They were packed tonight, and only minutes away from a shift change. The social worker was scribbling things down on a sheet of paper, and asking him the same questions the triage nurse had asked only moments ago. He was used to it by now, because this wasn't even his first visit, and it probably wouldn't be his last. All of his chart entries were much the same, so the social worker had a good understanding of how this would go. She finished her list of questions, and slowly walked toward the nurse's station.

"He's all yours," the social worker said to Lissa.

Another nurse laughed. "This is the one who always hits on you, right?"

"Ask him if he wants a CT scan," the social worker continued. "Tiffany forgot to ask, and we need that documented."

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She didn't understand what it was like to be so far from home; how he would have settled for a weather report, or petty gossip about someone he hardly knew. He would have settled for seeing 'I love you' on the back of some sales receipt for flour and corn, and he would have tucked it in his pocket only to pull it out as often as he could. He would have done anything to touch a lipstick stain on the edge of an envelope, or find one of her hairs in the creases of the paper. Her hair seemed to stick to everything by mistake. He would have even accepted sad news if that meant he could see the stains of her tears on the paper, because even feeling grief on her behalf would have been a pleasure. Despite what he knew, there was no way for him to transfer that understanding to her, and even if he knew how, he wouldn't have dared. He couldn't imagine a reality in which she knew what that felt like. His father always told him never to punish the qualities he wanted in a wife, so no matter how it may have frustrated him, he felt a duty to protect her ignorance.

"Don't cry." His words were gentle as he pressed his thumbs against her cheeks. "Don't cry, Rory, I ain't mad at you," he said as he took her in his arms again, this time tighter. Jack smiled, even laughing a little at the sweet reunion. He didn't really care if she cried either. She could cry buckets against his old shirt if she wanted to. "I'm here now."

a  breath,  unbeknownst  to  her,  escapes  her  lips  as  he  pulls  her  into  his  embrace.  the  familiar  warmth  washes  over  her,  soothing  an  ache  that  has  long  been  numbed  but  never  truly  healed.  in  her  darkest  moments,  she  had  convinced  herself  that  she  would  never  experience  this  embrace  again.  "i  told  you,  i  was  overwhelmed  by  everything  that's  been  happening."  she  has  never  voiced  this  admission  to  anyone,  reluctant  to  burden  others  when  she  knows  there  are  those  who  suffer  far  more  than  she  does.  "maybe  i  was  afraid  you  would  disappear  like  arthur  did."  maybe  it  would  have  made  more  sense  for  her  to  write  more,  if  that  was  her  concern.  however,  in  hindsight,  her  lack  of  letters  allows  her  to  shoulder  the  blame  for  their  severed  communication,  rather  than  attributing  it  to  an  unfortunate  circumstance  on  his  end.  it  may  not  make  much  sense  in  retrospect,  but  grief  seldom  leaves  one  in  a  state  of  utmost  reason.  her  eyes  well  up  against  her  will,  and  she  hastily  blinks,  attempting  to  conceal  the  tears.  "and  i  didn't  have  a  single  good  thing  to  write  to  you  about."  she  didn't  want  to  burden  him  with  news  of  the  passing  of  the  ones  he  knows  and  loves,  her  worries  about  her  brother,  or  her  woes  with  her  mother.

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Her disposition never surprised him, even now. He always thought he'd be arguing with her until the day he died, and he'd grown to accept that part of her such a long time ago that this show of stubbornness barely made him flinch. He got to his feet again, leaving the bucket behind. Then he wiped his mouth with his hand, probably to hide a smile. Jack walked across the dirt floor, and raised his hand just enough so he could take hers. Then he took her neck with his other arm, and pulled her in close.

"No, that wouldn't have made me happy," he assured her. She'd hear the words coming from his chest. His arms felt so empty for so long, and he hadn't even realized it until now. She was warm, and she was soft, and she smelled of something sweet... but he didn't hold that position for too long. "Rory, why'd you stop writing me?" he asked. As he pulled away from her, his hands found her cheeks. "Were you scared I wouldn't come home?"

if  she  were  bolder,  she  would  acknowledge  the  sheer  relief  she  sees  in  his  eyes  for  what  it  is.  however,  there  is  a  lingering  doubt  that  she  may  not  know  him  as  well  as  she  used  to,  however  slim  that  possibility  may  be.  it  remains  a  fact  that  they  have  been  apart  for  years,  and  countless  things  could  have  changed.  in  fact,  a  million  things  have  changed.  not  only  the  dynamics  between  them,  but  also  the  world  they  inhabit.  rarely  is  anyone  the  same  after  a  war  as  tumultuous  as  the  one  they’ve  barely  survived,  nor  is  she  the  same  cheery  girl  he  once  knew  her  to  be.  she  clenches  her  lips,  her  hands  curling  into  fists  that  crease  the  fabric  of  her  dress  as  she  gathers  her  thoughts.  without  great  enthusiasm  or  much  hope,  she  has  gone  on  occasional  dates  here  and  there,  some  without  prior  awareness  of  their  assumed  romantic  nature,  but  none  of  them  have  clicked.  it  is  beyond  her  control  who  she  falls  for,  and  more  often  than  not,  she  is  unsure  of  what  her  heart  desires.  but  can  anyone  truly  claim  to  know?  "would  it  be  foolish  if  i  was?"  she  asks,  aware  that  her  question  holds  little  meaning  considering  that  his  previous  reaction  has  already  conveyed  more  than  enough.  perhaps  he  is  right.  maybe  the  rational  course  of  action  would  have  been  to  move  on  long  ago.  if  she  has  resolved  to  uphold  her  end  of  their  promise,  she  has  not  done  enough  to  fully  fulfil  her  part.  "would  it  make  you  happy  if  i  told  you  i  was  married?"  her  gaze  locks  with  his,  holding  it  like  a  dare.  he  would  have  to  say  no,  wouldn't  he?

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"See me like what?" he bit. His arms crossed over his chest as he pressed his shoulder blades against the back of his chair. His heel pressed against the concrete floor as the front legs of his chair tipped an inch or more off the ground. "I stole a car, Kiki. I wasn't fucking murdering hookers, or selling fentanyl or some shit," he rolled his eyes. "You act like I can't go within a hundred feet of a middle school." Miles tried to resist a grin at his own joke, which she probably wouldn't find funny. "Just because you're ashamed of me doesn't mean my daughter is, and I don't need you in her ear telling her she should be either. Fuck that. If anything she should be ashamed of your fucking choices."

a sigh of frustration managed to slip past her lips because it never failed that the two of them would end up in an argument. it happened nearly every time the woman came to see him. "i didn't say that. i just don't know why you have to be such an asshole to me every time i'm here. you know when people say distance makes the heart grow fonder? i'm still waiting for that from you." she huffed out and leaned back in her chair. she could feel the tears of agitation building up in her eyes but she refused to allow the man in front of her to see that he got to her in that way, so she looked away from him. "do you really want your daughter to see you like this? in here of all places?"

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He felt his shoulders sink in relief when she gave him her answer. It had been six years since he'd seen her last, and a little over four years since he got that final letter, so he was put in the heart wrenching position of letting her go... at least in the practical sense. She would be someone else's bride, and he would eventually find another, although he never felt certain that he would. Of course he tried his best. Jack was a private man, so he'd take his indiscretions to the grave, but he'd be lying to himself if he thought that his affairs weren't some bleak effort to muster up the same feelings he had for her. But those French whores seemed empty behind the eyes, and that sweet nurse in Belgium deserved a man who would adore her in a way he knew he couldn't. Plenty of his friends brought girls home, even German girls, and the thought crossed his mind every time he saw a pair of pretty eyes, or heard a soft, feminine laugh... but he just couldn't. Jack almost smiled, but his relief was replaced by another more responsible sort of feeling. He frowned. His back straitened up so that he looked tall, even while sitting.

"Don't you dare say you was waitin' on me," he warned her. The tone of his voice dropped half an octave. Then he flung his arm out at his side, like he was gesturing to another time or place. "I coulda been dead, and then what? You waste yourself waitin' on me?" he shook his head as he spoke. "You think I'd've wanted that? Goddamn it Aurora," he caught himself, and he bit his tongue. His eyes squeezed shut. He'd have to stop cussing now that he was home again, and his mother had already chastised him for using the name of God in his anger.

aurora  watches  as  he  takes  a  seat  on  the  bench,  quietly  wondering  if  she  should  settle  down  next  to  him  but  opts  to  remain  where  she  is  in  the  end.  it  is  as  true  metaphorically  as  it  is  literally,  her  being  uncertain  where  she  stands  amidst  all  of  this.  she  hasn’t  figured  out  what  to  say  to  him  before  she  embarks  on  her  journey  here,  save  for  a  vague  idea  of  an  apology  that  she  finds  necessary.  "i'm  sorry."  she  wonders  if  she  sounds  like  a  broken  record  by  now,  but  she  isn't  sure  what  else  is  there  to  be  said.  even  though  she  has  heard  of  the  catastrophes  that  come  with  war,  he's  the  one  who  witnessed it  with  his  own  eyes  and  survived  despite  the  chaos  and  dreariness.  the  letters  from  home  are  the  least  the  ones  back  home  can  do  to  help,  even  in  their  insignificant  way,  but  she  fails  even  that.  "it  must  be  terribly  lonely."  but  loneliness  is  perhaps  the  least  of  a  soldier's  worries  when  death  looms  near  —  not  that  she  would  know.  when  she  is  lost  to  her  thoughts  of  guilt,  his  following  question  catches  her  entirely  off  guard.  "married?"  she  repeats,  her  eyes  widen  as  she  stands  flustered.  "no,  i  didn’t  —  of  course  i'm  not  —  "  she  shakes  her  head,  though  perhaps  she  cannot  blame  him  for  jumping  to  that  conclusion  when  he  hasn't  heard  from  her  for  so  long.  but,  really?  "i'm  not  seeing  anybody."

[sxmpxony]

"Here we go," his mutterings intermingled with her complaints. Miles reached into his back pocket, and grabbed a cigarette. By the time she was through, he was finished lighting up. "I know. You're such a victim, and I'm such a jerk," he mocked her. Miles wasn't the least bit sensitive of her feelings, which shouldn't have come as a surprise to her, because most of the time his arrogance played a key role in determining the outcomes of his relationships. "You could have let me see her." He gestured around the room to some of the other inmates. "Half the women in here bring their kids."

she hated feeling like everything she did was wrong and that she had to constantly defend each move she made. "she's with my mom, as she is whenever i work but i can't leave her with my mom 24/7. my mom has to work too." she shifted, pushing her chair back and shaking her head at him. "i'm so sick of this. it's like you think i'm incapable of being a mom and you don't trust the decisions i make to provide for her. if you have such a low opinion of me, why the hell are you with me? better yet, why did you have a child with me?"