"I don't know," she replies, exhausted, but she does know at least one thing, one thing she's spent time trapped in her own head to fixate on: "But smack me if I ever say I didn't have a choice in killing someone."
"You didn't really have a choice when you was like that," he points out, chagrined. "But if you say it you're gonna sound like a fool and an asshole, so I'll stand by."
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"Like what?" He makes a face, but he leans in close enough that she can hold onto him comfortably.
"I reckon I'm pretty good at metaphors, but I couldn't figure out a good one for this."
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"You didn't really have a choice when you was like that," he points out, chagrined. "But if you say it you're gonna sound like a fool and an asshole, so I'll stand by."
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"Always," he agrees, softly. "You know it."
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