"Not someday, then," Faye proposes, her eyes dancing with mischief and anticipation alike, her heart lurching in her chest at the thought of being up in the air so soon, the one last part of her life— her life, and not her past— which Dean hasn't had access to yet. Perhaps that should be terrifying, in its own way. And it is. To allow someone so fully into one's life means that the departure would leave them aching in every possible way, hollows waiting just under the skin.
But if she's to live in the moment, and freely, that means throwing all the doors open, come hell or high water.
"This afternoon," she proposes, arching a brow. "Once you get it running, we'll head on up together. She's only got seating enough for one, but I don't think that should be a problem."
no subject
But if she's to live in the moment, and freely, that means throwing all the doors open, come hell or high water.
"This afternoon," she proposes, arching a brow. "Once you get it running, we'll head on up together. She's only got seating enough for one, but I don't think that should be a problem."