Noctisardor Bypass laksen

silence and silence and silence.
his laugh splayed her ears, a touch of hurt dimming the opennness held there. for the duration of his almost labored speech heda looked away from anselm. did he think it so laughable that — she could want him? would want to try? it was more likely that the situation was so disgusting to anselm that all he could do was express a cold relief it was formally to be ended, any further attempts.
gut-wounded, her ears trembling, heda listened on, swallowing the bitter taste of tears left in her throat.
i wanted to be yours, anselm.
and i would have worked to make it something that brought you some measure of happiness.
worked for nothing — "no one could replace you as their father. i wouldn't want that." despite the emotion in her voice, the earnest timbre of it was clear, despite the fact that she found herself still physically unable to look at anselm, lest she hurt again and anew.
"just — get along with him when you're both around." the boys weren't babies any longer; by winter they would be half-grown and by spring perhaps dispersing of their own accord.
there was no reason to dissent or to fight. amadeo wanted this with heda. anselm did not.
so why did the 'not' stab her again to think of it so plainly?