Krouse stares at the ground in front of his feet as he twists his hands into the rough fabric of his sleeves. He counts out three seconds, one after another, before he opens his mouth to speak. ]
Noelle.
[ He's grateful for the veil of residual calm Teacher gave him. Grateful for the opportunities he's had to clarify and refine his focus on who did what, and when, and to who. He's grateful he'll never fucking see Marissa again, so he can put her as far from his mind as possible. ]
I'm coming to see you.
[ Krouse doesn't blame her for thinking he wouldn't. How could he? When did he ever do enough to make her believe anything else? Hadn't he almost wavered when it counted the most?
He's thought about that a lot. He can play it over in his mind a hundred different ways, trying to remember the exact inflection of what he said, the specifics of what he'd been thinking. Sometimes he thinks he never could have made another decision, that all he needed was an excuse to do what he'd planned to do as soon as they pulled together one last time. Sometimes he thinks she could tell he almost faltered. Sometimes he's sure that's why she left him behind.
He's always sure he deserved it. ]
I want - [ his voice cracks, a little ] I want to see you. Please.
no subject
Krouse stares at the ground in front of his feet as he twists his hands into the rough fabric of his sleeves. He counts out three seconds, one after another, before he opens his mouth to speak. ]
Noelle.
[ He's grateful for the veil of residual calm Teacher gave him. Grateful for the opportunities he's had to clarify and refine his focus on who did what, and when, and to who. He's grateful he'll never fucking see Marissa again, so he can put her as far from his mind as possible. ]
I'm coming to see you.
[ Krouse doesn't blame her for thinking he wouldn't. How could he? When did he ever do enough to make her believe anything else? Hadn't he almost wavered when it counted the most?
He's thought about that a lot. He can play it over in his mind a hundred different ways, trying to remember the exact inflection of what he said, the specifics of what he'd been thinking. Sometimes he thinks he never could have made another decision, that all he needed was an excuse to do what he'd planned to do as soon as they pulled together one last time. Sometimes he thinks she could tell he almost faltered. Sometimes he's sure that's why she left him behind.
He's always sure he deserved it. ]
I want - [ his voice cracks, a little ] I want to see you. Please.