"How do you have any friends?" She asked him it quietly, her fingers tight on his. This scares her, too, because Caroline feels like she's nobody without her friends, or without some friends. She's a bright star in a dark room, and she knows it, because she does it for them.
But in a hundred years, who is she going to have? "I don't want to talk about this, anymore," she says quietly, because she doesn't want to hear that you don't have them, that it's just being by yourself for hundreds of years, because she never wants to wonder if she'll regret telling him yes on her birthday.
"Promise me we'll always be able to be at least whatever this is. That if I come to you in 500 years, no matter what's happened, it'll be okay."
no subject
But in a hundred years, who is she going to have? "I don't want to talk about this, anymore," she says quietly, because she doesn't want to hear that you don't have them, that it's just being by yourself for hundreds of years, because she never wants to wonder if she'll regret telling him yes on her birthday.
"Promise me we'll always be able to be at least whatever this is. That if I come to you in 500 years, no matter what's happened, it'll be okay."