kathleen

pacifier

kathleen's pov:
"lets have a walk, talk things out, just me n you" van says, his voice almost shaky, but recognisable. of course i want to say yes. i've missed him so much. i have to.
"um, sure, okay," i reply, with a hardly eager tone, i think to myself. at first we were silent again, and this silence wasn't comfortable or painful, more awkward. "so," van says, clearly trying to break the ice, "how've things been?"
"alright," i reply "nothing special honestly, just been trying to make ends meet by working in the caf, you?"
"good, the band's doin well n stuff," he answers, pulling out a cigarette "you want one?"
"i'm okay thanks, i've given it up, it's too expensive," i reply. even making small talk like this is making me feel better, finally hearing his voice again after years of anticipation. "how's the family?" i ask, genuinely interested, his family were honestly so kind to me, another reason why i felt terrible for doing what i had done. "alreet," he replies "my nan died about a month ago though."
"oh my god are you serious? i'm so sorry, she was so lovely." his nan was one of the kindest people i had ever met, she had a certain warmth about her that was unmistakable. "yeah, guess it was just her time," he replies, almost nonchalantly.
"i've never understood how you deal with death. it's like nowt but water off a duck's back to you." i say, bewildered.
"yeah well, you've gotta celebrate their lives as well as mourn them." he says. i almost grasp his concept of coping with it, but i still don't think i could apply it in my life.

van's pov:
this reminds me of the old days. we always used to get into little arguments about this. i understand her though. she's full of emotion and passion, so i see why she wouldn't be able to deal with it like i can. i think it's because i've always been sheltered from it my whole life. when i was younger, my great aunt died and my mam didn't even tell me till about 2 weeks after it had happened. "yeah, i s'pose," she replies, with an uncertainty in her tone. the silence strikes again. in this moment, i just want to tell her everything. exactly how i feel, and honestly i know, deep down, i know i shouldn't, but i can't help myself. "listen kath," vulnerability looms over my body again. "i-," i feel her words cut into mine.