Bearclaw Valley wildflower

her eyes meet winslet’s, and she bites the inside of her cheek, trying to fight off the warmth creeping up her neck. she doesn’t like being seen like this, like she doesn’t know what to do with herself.

pick myself up? she murmurs, voice quieter now, tinged with something softer, more thoughtful. yeah, i guess there ain't much else to do...

she shifts uncomfortably, the silence heavy for a beat before she looks at winslet again. her shoulders relax, just a little. the warmth in her chest is still there, and she doesn’t quite know how to handle it.

maybe you're right, she mumbles, her tone almost shy now, softer than usual. guess i can try... to believe in myself more.

she pauses, looking down at the ground for a moment, letting her words settle before looking back up at winslet, a small, sheepish smile tugging at her lips.

thanks, she says, quieter than before, the gratitude slipping out without her usual edge. for, y’know, uh... not lettin' me forget.