A tiny snippet

[annwfyn.livejournal.com]

It was, Rio thought, a traumatic realisation. More painful than childbirth, considerably more painful than a monster sticking a claw into your side, and slightly less terrible that the moment of certainty where she had thought she was going to die, in the exact same room and manner her mother had died in.

And it was physically painful. That’s why, she supposed, they called it ‘hurt’. Because it did hurt; the tightening in the chest; the sickness in the belly; the weird stinging sensation somewhere inside your head, which would move to the eyes if you weren’t careful.

Rusty, she thought, in a slightly pained fashion, was probably right.

He had sat her down a while ago to explain to her that she needed to accept some things. She needed to stop being selfish and think of her family. She needed to accept that Holly wasn’t ready for her to be dating again. And Holly would probably never be ready. So she should really just…not.

Which, at the time, had stung.

Rio was, she was faintly aware, scared of being alone.

She was coming to the conclusion she needed to get used to it.