[for daniel] time makes you bolder
The ending with Cameron had been quiet, deceptively so. Behind his resignation lay a capacity for self-destructiveness that worried her with the hurt he had taken. He had accepted her decision, because he had no choice. Fait accompli. Although she would have listened to his arguments had he chosen to make them, she did what she knew best for both of them. Yet accepting a decision and abiding by it was not acceptance of its rightness. Despite his genial manner, he would be deeply hurt and far angrier than he would admit.
He would need someone who would neither be frightened by it nor deceived. He would need Daniel.
For her own part, she found she also wanted Daniel. The decision to leave New Atlantis and become, again, on her own had been a simple one. Simplicity and ease could not be conflated, however. She ached, diffusely, for everything that she had never expected to live to long for, and for everything she had attempted to put in its place to fill the hole it had left.
She also needed a friend. Her oldest friend among those here, even if they were more often contentious than not. Daniel, at least, understood what she had been, whether or not he approved it.
From her own hut, hers no longer, the walk to Daniel's was short. A few minutes, but she did not go directly. Rather, she waited until Cameron stepped inside again, so he would not see her go. The last thing she wished was for him to reject Daniel because he sat in the unfortunate position of friend to them both. After today, if the friendship must be quartered, she would gift her part to Cameron and seek out those they did not share.
Today, Daniel needed to know what had transpired.
She stepped up onto the porch and knocked quietly. "Daniel?"
He would need someone who would neither be frightened by it nor deceived. He would need Daniel.
For her own part, she found she also wanted Daniel. The decision to leave New Atlantis and become, again, on her own had been a simple one. Simplicity and ease could not be conflated, however. She ached, diffusely, for everything that she had never expected to live to long for, and for everything she had attempted to put in its place to fill the hole it had left.
She also needed a friend. Her oldest friend among those here, even if they were more often contentious than not. Daniel, at least, understood what she had been, whether or not he approved it.
From her own hut, hers no longer, the walk to Daniel's was short. A few minutes, but she did not go directly. Rather, she waited until Cameron stepped inside again, so he would not see her go. The last thing she wished was for him to reject Daniel because he sat in the unfortunate position of friend to them both. After today, if the friendship must be quartered, she would gift her part to Cameron and seek out those they did not share.
Today, Daniel needed to know what had transpired.
She stepped up onto the porch and knocked quietly. "Daniel?"