Clara didn't offer a platitude. She didn't tell him he was wrong or that he was "stronger than he knew." Instead, she moved across the floor and sat right next to him, her shoulder pressing firmly against his.
"Then I’ll learn to breathe underwater," she said softly. "I'm not here because I think you're a project to be fixed, Elias. I’m here because I like the view from your ship, even when it’s taking on water." Im With You
Elias sat on the edge of a rusted park bench, his collar turned up against the chill. He wasn’t waiting for a bus or a person—he was waiting for the feeling of being untethered to finally pull him under. At twenty-four, he felt like a ghost in his own life, moving through a sequence of shifts at a quiet bookstore and long walks through a city that seemed to have forgotten him. "It’s a bit damp for a sit-down, isn’t it?" Clara didn't offer a platitude
The rain continued to fall, but for the first time in a long time, the world didn't feel blurred at all. "I'm not here because I think you're a
"The noise is fine. It’s the pneumonia that’s the problem," she replied, stepping closer. She tilted her umbrella, shielding him. The sudden cessation of rain hitting his shoulders felt like a physical weight being lifted. "I’m Clara."
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