by Eileen

She knows she should feel some guilt for using threats to frighten her into compliance, but what she feels instead is a grim kind of satisfaction that leaves a taste in her mouth which, while bitter, isn't entirely unpleasant.

It's not because they're in love with the same man, and it's not because she slept with her father, draped herself in his shirt and wandered the apartment like a lost little lamb sheared for the first time.

It's because she looks at her and she sees someone who reminds her of what she remembers she once was. Desperate. Needy.


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