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. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆
Tallulah anxiously tried to twist the usual ring on her finger in the back seat of Rebecca's fancy-schmancy car. The only problem was the white bulky cast that encased her arm and half of her fingers, making it rather difficult to perform tedious tasks like twisting the bit of silver around her finger. Luckily, there was nothing getting in the way of her tapping her foot against the floor except for Rebecca's eyes, which seemed to spy in the direction of her leg every couple of minutes.
"Rebecca?" The ginger's voice wavered, inquisitive, "Why are you staring at me like that?"
The older woman rolled her eyes and turned her body to face the younger one better, Tallulah doing the same but still keeping one foot able to perform the anxious mannerism.
"Because I know you're nervous, we're ranked abysmally, Rupert's being a cunt, your bloody foot tapping is driving me crazy, and I thought you were scared of cars? How are you not sobbing or having a mental breakdown right now?" The woman rambled, trying and failing to take a deep breath to calm herself.
"I know lots of tricks on how not to have a mental breakdown," she held up a finger, "One: wait till you get home; two: wait till you're not around anyone and then have it. They're both kind of a win-lose situation but... at least you win?" She shrugged.
"So your advice is to wait till you get home?" Rebecca questioned.
"No, I never said it was advice, I was just telling you what I do," she hummed, looking past the blonde to look out the window as they were slowing down and having to stop more and more as the traffic worsened closer to the stadium.
Tallulah felt waves of doubt wash over her as they drew nearer. *They don't want me back; I left them. He doesn't need me back here, messing everything up all over again. I can't keep doing this. Going in and out of people's lives. Especially here, I can't do this again. I can't cause any more damage than I already have.*
"Are you scared?" Rebecca questioned, her voice wavering just above a whisper to the young girl, as if the question could break her. "Are you scared to see... him?"
The question rattled around in her head. Was she scared? Was she scared because of him? Was it even fair that she was scared? She gave everything up. No one gave her up; it was only her. How could she have been so stupid? The thought of seeing everyone... after everything... it was more nerve-wracking than scary.
