[ there is something wry in the twist of her lips when she hears him echo her, not once, but twice. for a moment, they simply share a quiet look of understanding; perhaps not one so deep as to know it all, but enough that there is indeed something quiet unspoken between them.
i am not okay. and yet i am, because compared to everyone else, i get to be.
she sighs a little, willing some of that tension from her shoulders. she turns back to the kitchen, gesturing to the utensils and ingredients she has laid out before them. ]
Would you like to help me, Giovanni? I suppose I could use another set of hands.
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i am not okay. and yet i am, because compared to everyone else, i get to be.
she sighs a little, willing some of that tension from her shoulders. she turns back to the kitchen, gesturing to the utensils and ingredients she has laid out before them. ]
Would you like to help me, Giovanni? I suppose I could use another set of hands.