He explained it to her as the rules once, after about the third or fourth time she caught him scribbling a few notes down in that little book. Later on, he even read her a few, but it's the kind of thing Wichita knows now to pry into, and it's not like she worries about him keeping any big secrets from her. He's the first person she's been honest with about a lot of shit. He'll tell her about everything that's important to him in his own time, without her needing to force it out of him. The rules are what kept him alive, back then, and maybe she had a version of her own, too, and just didn't realize it.
She crouches down next to him in front of the fireplace, peering into the flames and squinting before her eyes make out the telltale lines of his handwriting. She's not shocked, not really, but to say it doesn't come as a surprise would be lying. Wordlessly, she slips a hand into his, lacing their fingers together.
"Is this the part where we're supposed to say a few words, or - ?" she murmurs, lips curving into an amused grin.
"I don't know," I say, just watching the notebook burn, squeezing her hand as she slips it into mine. Everything's easier with her close. Everything feels more doable.
She waits to speak until the book starts to curl in onto itself, pages shriveled beyond recognition, her thumb absently running over the back of his hands as they silently watch it burn together.
"You feeling okay?" she asks, glancing over at him. He doesn't seem too beat-up about it, but there's no denying the attachment that had been there.
"I don't know that either," I say, leaning against her shoulder. "I thought...I'd feel better, you know? Better or worse. Right now...I don't know. It' just...feels like nothing. And that's really disappointing."
Adam suspected his own shuddering feeling about someone burning a book had to do with the Circle and with how carefully he and his friends had guarded the secrets of their Books of Shadows but something about seeing the guy feeding pages into the fire set him a little on edge.
Still, he must have reasons, and it wasn't really Adam's place to judge. Judging usually meant judging wrong and after seeing how that prejudice could affect his life firsthand, he wasn't quick to do that without sound reasons.
"Not bad," I say, because, let's face it - the rules...they were pretty much all that got me through Zombieland intact. I believe in those rules. I just...can't live by them forever.
"Definitely not bad. Just...done with, I guess. I'm...uh. I'm moving on."
"I guess the island's a good place to do that. Fresh, clean slate and all that."
Adam hadn't had a lot he wanted to leave behind and, truth be told, he hadn't wanted to leave but he could respect other people wanting to change their situations for the better.
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She crouches down next to him in front of the fireplace, peering into the flames and squinting before her eyes make out the telltale lines of his handwriting. She's not shocked, not really, but to say it doesn't come as a surprise would be lying. Wordlessly, she slips a hand into his, lacing their fingers together.
"Is this the part where we're supposed to say a few words, or - ?" she murmurs, lips curving into an amused grin.
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"I think we're...better just letting it go."
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"You feeling okay?" she asks, glancing over at him. He doesn't seem too beat-up about it, but there's no denying the attachment that had been there.
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Still, he must have reasons, and it wasn't really Adam's place to judge. Judging usually meant judging wrong and after seeing how that prejudice could affect his life firsthand, he wasn't quick to do that without sound reasons.
"Is it that bad a book that you need to burn it?"
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"Definitely not bad. Just...done with, I guess. I'm...uh. I'm moving on."
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Adam hadn't had a lot he wanted to leave behind and, truth be told, he hadn't wanted to leave but he could respect other people wanting to change their situations for the better.
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I realise that, much as I want rid of it, I can't just sit there and watch it burn. "Uh. I need to get out of here. Sorry."
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