M .  ACKERMAN  !

rose petaled lips part and she dares to speak — an odd feeling of comfort washing over, but that’s not enough to ‘ fool ‘ her.  it would take much more than soft words to allow anyone to see.  ‘  it doesn’t work that way.  ‘  her voice trails, head dipping ever so. trust was not an easy thing to gain from her.   ‘   you should know that by now.   ‘

HE  SHOVES  HIS  HANDS  IN   _{his pockets ,  not surprised by her reaction .  He’d probably do the same thing in her position ,  so he doesn’t press on .   Instead ,  he takes a couple of steps back ,  giving her a space that he feels she needs .     “   It was   WORTH  a shot ,   ”     he whispers ,  letting the silence sinks in .  But he  hates  the quiet  ;   that’s why he’s always so loud ,  that’s why he sometimes talks to himself   — — —   just to remind himself that he’s in the present .     “   Can I get you anything ?   A cup of tea or something maybe ?   ”}

HIS  JAWS  CLENCH .  HIS  GAZE  ,   _{however ,  stays glued to her .  Unyielding but  soft .  He toys with the rings on his fingers as a way to keep himself occupied as he ponders and chooses his words  meticulously  .   Dropping his  devil-may-care  facade ,  he says softly   ––   barely above a whisper ,     “    If I do believe you , will you trust me enough to tell me what’s going on ?   ”}

_{continued from here.}