no subject

[it's the ache. surely, this is the ache viola was talking about. but it came all at once, assaulting in a confounding new shape. blinking is doing nothing, and she's bereft of words.

it's only really happened once, before—but then, it had made sense. hadn't it? sadness, frustration, loss, powerlessness... she could name those, now, looking back, even if she couldn't at the time. so why...

ah.

maybe it really wasn't so different, after all.

for another long moment, she sits, holding viola's hand, until she eventually takes the handkerchief, and wipes the tears herself.

her voice is quiet, raw, when she finally says:]

Thank you.