We know what we are // But know not who we may be
13 BölÃŒm TamamlanmıŠHikaye (ððŠðŽðµ ððªð¥ðŠ ððµð°ð³ðº ðð)
"You're gonna fight them...ain't you?" she asked, her voice barely rising above a whisper.
Riff didn't answer. Didn't even look at her.
Letting out a disappointed sigh, her eyes found the moon again, attempting to find solace in something that was so very far away.
"ðð€ðª ðð€ð£'ð© ðð«ðð§ ð©ððð£ð ððð€ðªð© ð©ðð ððªð©ðªð§ð, ðð€ ð®ð€ðª?" she finally dared to ask.
Riff looked over at her in surprise, but she was still staring at the sky.
"What's there to think about?"
An annoyed huff escaped her lips.
"I don't know. Finding hobbies? Pursuing your dreams? Growing up?" she listed exasperatedly.
Riff laughed, but this time it was void of any real amusement.
"ð ðð€ð£'ð© ð©ððð£ð 'ðð§ð€ð¬ðð£ð ðªð¥' ðððš ðð«ðð§ ðððð£ ðð£ ð©ðð ððð§ððš ðð€ð§ ððªð®ðš ð¡ðð ð ð¢ð."
*The only thing I own is Erin and her story. All other characters, script dialogue and plot points belong to Steven Spielberg, Tony Kushner, Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Sondheim, and Arthur Laurents.