14 June 2018

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This entry is as yet unfinished and will likely remain so.

Phoenix is dreaming. She is speaking to or chatting with Terminus in messages, but not in-person. The two tend to blend together in dreams. But almost never in-person, as that is not the nature of their relationship. It is not what she, even her subconscious, is accustomed to. 
 
He says he's made a decision regarding whether or not he wishes to pursue a relationship. 
 
She smiles to herself, though her brain is wracked with nerves: "... And?"
 
"Let's not talk about it now," he says, shrugging it off like he did the broken bowl.
 
But much like the broken bowl, Phoenix metaphorically stares into middle space, mouth slightly agape, a hand clasped over her mouth, if that was something she (anyone) actually did in real life. It can't be good if he wishes to postpone the conversation. It never is. But this isn't him. She chuckles anxiously. "No, what is it?"
 
"Really, I don't want to talk about it now."
 

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September 2018

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