<div class="floatleft">(http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/nickelodeon/images/6/6a/Emma-roberts-mobile-wallpaper.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20140109115134)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><strong>Name:</strong> Elena Charlie Vandel (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12381845#msg12381845)<br/><strong>City | Date | Time:</strong> Slightly south of Albany, New York | June 21, 2013 | Evening<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong> Jason, Closed.<br/><strong>Content:</strong> Guilt.</span><br/><hr/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><br/>It was true. Insecurity didn't fit him, but she also understood. This was a sudden - and jarring - departure from her normally happy, supportive, and loving stance. She'd been ambigous in the past, and called those who'd went out on their own fully independent. They were, but she could <em>make</em> them come if she wanted, and it was that little caveat she had left out that had turned her explanations into lies. Not entirely on purpose, but she had left information out for <em>reasons</em>. It was one of those times she could've been clearer, but at the time had felt no need to do so. As for her crying, not a single tear was spent on trying to convince him how awful she felt - more, each one was a little piece of that guilt - laden sadness freeing itself the only other way it knew how. <br/><br/>He fell quiet a few moments, then, and though Elena had no way of being sure, her instincts said he was looking for other options. Ones that weren't <em>being open, divorced, or making his wife do things she didn't want to.</em> It made her feel guiltier because it was her who had backed him into a corner. And what if he agreed? What then? Was he agreeing because he could really be okay with it - or was he agreeing just because he felt bad that she was not just <em>evolved</em> but a fucking <em>monster?</em><br/><br/>Her thoughts were interrupted by his demand - “Don't cry.” - and the touch of his hand, no longer squeezing the arm's chair, touched her cheek. It took all she had to prevent her controlled crying from escalating to <em>bawling</em>, especially as he eventually came to verbatim repeat part of his vows, her head being lifted in the process, too. She looked far less composed, now, like each sincere word he'd spoke smashed against the brittle supports of her outer calm. She didn't know how to respond, and thankfully he wasn't done.<br/><br/>“This isn't what we signed up for," he continued as his brows knit, and Elena just stared into his face like it was the largest, prettiest moon she'd ever seen. Slowly she nodded, murmuring an "I know." In that moment, she knew everything was going to be okay. He affirmed it by going on more, but she was just doing her best to stop crying, now. To stop torturing him with wetness leaked through reddened eye holes. But now she wanted to cry for a different reason: happiness, because it meant that tonight when she sulked into bed, all that would remain would be the lingering guilt of having lied, and that the future would contain a lot less of a heavy heart for her. To spare him her tears, Elena just smiled and spoke.  "Thank you. You will always be the most important thing in my life," - god how true that was somehow even showed on her face -  "I don't know what I'd do without you."<br/><br/>Moments later, her posture in his lap changed, and she laid into him, her face burrowing in against his shoulder and neck, where his shirt could catch her tears and he wouldn't have to see them. If he thought he was moving, he was absolutely wrong. She was in full - on lap anchor mode, and truly, the most moving she would be doing within the next few hours was ordering pizza.<br/><br/></span></span><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;">--- [ <strong>Scene Completed</strong> ] ---</span></span></div><br/>