[There are stormclouds behind Sam's eyes. She doesn't have to see them to know what's happening. She's gotten used to his pensive face, the way his mind is always in some kind of thunderstorm, except for a moment or two every once in awhile when they're in the middle of lovemaking.
The one thing she can't really do is understand what's going on inside of those tempests of thought. She wishes she could read minds, especially his. Or, at least, grasp a wisp of thought.
It would be easier than guessing. Mostly because she always guesses the worst thing possible. That's how the world works. Her world, anyway. Probably his too, based on what she's heard. Worst case scenarios are usually inevitable.]
No. It's not. Because I'm going to make it easier for you.
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The one thing she can't really do is understand what's going on inside of those tempests of thought. She wishes she could read minds, especially his. Or, at least, grasp a wisp of thought.
It would be easier than guessing. Mostly because she always guesses the worst thing possible. That's how the world works. Her world, anyway. Probably his too, based on what she's heard. Worst case scenarios are usually inevitable.]
No. It's not. Because I'm going to make it easier for you.