Wapun Meadow and I've got one foot in the door

the grizzled man doesn't know how to react to her cat-like stares. all heavy and pretty and stirring a feeling within him that they shouldn't. the kind of stare that makes a man weak in the knees. something he cannot afford, could not handle as he battled guilt. 

and yet, he can't look away. as if that soft song of hers put him in some type of trance. one that his heart didn't want to break from, but his common sense demanded he should. "you covey sound like good folk, then. believin' a wicked man can change." a long time ago, he would've called it naivety. but now? he isn't sure. the world always offers second chances, but what good are they when he feels like he shouldn't take it?

besides, his second chance was gone. disappeared. he doesn't believe he deserves a third.

he meets her smile with a grunt, his brows pinched. expression troubled, as it usually was these days. "but what if ya can't accept the good? what if ya don't want it?" a question he'd be left to wrestle with. the good is right there, ripe for the taking. but what if he isn't ready to take it?

what if he's already convinced he's a condemned, sinful man?

he exhales a heavy sigh, his side rising and falling with a tension that threatens to break him. "reckon' ya can sing for me whenever ya want, songbird. i'll listen." even though he shouldn't. it felt like he was betraying a woman who wasn't around anymore; breaking a promise he'd intended to keep.