[ were she younger, a little less sure of herself, she might have spared some worry about the dullness of evenings like these. that certainly he would have preferred something else, something more exciting or spontaneous or all the other adjectives marta wouldn't normally associate with herself. but the thing about always being honest meant he'd known who she was long before their mutual decision to accept and nurture this thing between them, and so accept every other part of each other too. even the quiet and boring parts.
(—but, see, the thing is? she knows him too. she knows him well enough to confidently tell a younger, less-sure-of-herself marta to eat it. kovacs chose happiness. he chose her.) ]
Maybe it's a bit of both. There has to be a word for that somewhere.
[ she watches him look down at the book, her canine idly chewing on the corner of her lip. it's a more anxious tic than she usually has; perhaps this has been on her mind longer than she thought. ]
Tak.
[ she doesn't often use his name, and less so the nickname he so tenderly handed her. she knows she's not the only one who knows it, but that doesn't make her want to treasure it any less. and some moments just seem to necessitate it more. ]
The friend I'm here for... the one who died for me...
His name was Harlan.
[ a pause to let the weight of his name settle on her tongue. it's been so long since she's said it outloud.
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(—but, see, the thing is? she knows him too. she knows him well enough to confidently tell a younger, less-sure-of-herself marta to eat it. kovacs chose happiness. he chose her.) ]
Maybe it's a bit of both. There has to be a word for that somewhere.
[ she watches him look down at the book, her canine idly chewing on the corner of her lip. it's a more anxious tic than she usually has; perhaps this has been on her mind longer than she thought. ]
Tak.
[ she doesn't often use his name, and less so the nickname he so tenderly handed her. she knows she's not the only one who knows it, but that doesn't make her want to treasure it any less. and some moments just seem to necessitate it more. ]
The friend I'm here for... the one who died for me...
His name was Harlan.
[ a pause to let the weight of his name settle on her tongue. it's been so long since she's said it outloud.
that worried corner of her lip quirks up. ]
Isn't life strange?