he was never good at it. she'd tried to teach him, but for all his tutelage, it didn't seem to stick. but every time, every broken chain, she'd reach in, and like magic, fix it for him.
maybe he'd never learned on purpose—just to keep her doing it.
like a moth to a flame, his feet move unconsciously, stepping away from the others, moving closer.]
no subject
he was never good at it. she'd tried to teach him, but for all his tutelage, it didn't seem to stick. but every time, every broken chain, she'd reach in, and like magic, fix it for him.
maybe he'd never learned on purpose—just to keep her doing it.
like a moth to a flame, his feet move unconsciously, stepping away from the others, moving closer.]