That little spark of fire, that hate - that's the real Morning, stuck in there. In any other situation she would be feeling worried or maybe angry with someone, but this time - it sparked a little hope in her, admiration of a fiery spirit in there.
"You're great, Morning. You're fantastic," she reassured, getting a tissue out of her bag and passing it to him. "Don't be afraid of that feeling... it's real."
no subject
"You're great, Morning. You're fantastic," she reassured, getting a tissue out of her bag and passing it to him. "Don't be afraid of that feeling... it's real."