[Lost] Three small words.

[akonken.livejournal.com]

Rose lay awake in the dark and unfamiliar bedroom listening to the movement downstairs in the cottage. Does that count, she wondered as she shifted to curl onto her side. Does 'it's my fault for falling' count for my catch? Will the Wyrd accept it the next time he's in danger?

She still wasn't used to the idea of people loving her. She was starting to recognise the signs - just - but the idea that she was the object of adoration still slipped through the cracks of her consciousness unless she focused on it, like sand into shag carpet. She accepted it as true; obviously it was true. It was just...odd.

It didn't bother her like it had done even a few months previously. Or at least it wasn't the pressure it had been. She no longer felt the need for release for it. Now she bore it. She accepted the love; it was her duty (duty wasn't even the right word; it made it sound like a chore, which it wasn't) to do so, and it wasn't as though she didn't love them back, in some way.

She rolled over to face the wall, letting a sigh escape. The worst of it was hurting people. She didn't really want to do that, even if Spring said that meant she was helping them live. If she could just find a way to let them love her without it causing any pain...

Rose frowned in the darkness. That must be why the Wyrd allowed this catch. It didn't ask her to sacrifice herself to save others because they had already made - still were making - the sacrifice themselves.

And now she understood.