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[ironside_pixie]

She was wearing one of Ellen's skirts, a slender black number that reached halfway down her calves. There was a cigarette burn right near the bottom, but Kaye doubted anyone would notice, or care. She felt like a grown up, in the stuffy clothing, staring at the door to the funeral parlor. In a moment she would have to go in and join them. She didn'

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[ironside_pixie]

She turns, achingly slow and there's a moment when her feet catch on the sidewalk and it seems like she might sprawl there in the dirt. They don't and she completes her rotation to look at him with sharp eyes.

He shouldn't be here, this wasn't his place. She was the one who had to go in...

"Roiben."

[ironside_pixie]

"It's okay." Her voice is as tense as the dark smudges beneath her eyes, the shape of her shoulders.

She always has a smile to spare for him...even today - albeit a strained one.

"Where else would I be today?" Her eyes flick back to the door, smile silently fading.

[ironside_pixie]

"Janet will still be dead." Is her first response. Soft. Soft and bitter; two words that should never be forced together. All she wants is to go home.

It seems to Kaye an eternity, especially on this day, as the breeze lifts and her face tilts downwards to hide behind tangles.

"Hold me?" A stupid request, a childish one. A stiff blouse and uncomfortable skirt didn't make her an adult.

[ironside_pixie]

Kaye isn't sure she can feel at all. No...that was silly of her. She'd like to not be able to feel. Not the pain of Janet's cold body waiting for her, nor the way her cheeks heat as he holds her close.

Her fingers twist against the rough fabric of his jacket, she wonders if it's cobwebs and silk. A false glamour to ensnare her senses.

"No, I'm not." Though her voice says she doesn't really believe it.

[ironside_pixie]

"I don't know how to deal with this." Spent so long wrapped in her own pain that when real pain came along, she realised how silly that had been.

Kaye shivers. She can't lose herself in him, not right now when she has to go in.

The need to is almost overwhelming and in the end she just wraps thin arms around his neck and holds on for dear life. Life.

[ironside_pixie]

It's a matter of remembering. Remembering gentle words spoken against the skin of her neck - sacrifice, always for you - strong arms to carry you and a chest to lay your head against.

Not because you need taking care of, but because you want to be stronger for him.

Remember. That you are not the only one.

"It hurts less."

[ironside_pixie]

It's difficult (the one person I can rely on) to pull her arms down and step back from him.

His breath, gentle voice, on her ear is all that she needs. Kaye doesn't even care that passersby are staring, at a fragile girl and model-like boy standing picturesque as a movie scene in the center of their sorrow.

"So will I." Kaye tries to imprint him on her memory, his beauty, his goodness...just in case. Then she turns and walks. She has to go in.