[A not insignificant part of Sayori hates that idea. But she shoves that part down, recognizing it now as an old wound. An old wound that keeps getting picked back open, but an old wound nonetheless.]
yeah thats ok u wanna sit out on the beach with me? the beach chairs we got are p comfy
[The small comforts of the starry night sky and the ocean waves will make this conversation easier, she thinks.]
no subject
yeah thats ok
u wanna sit out on the beach with me? the beach chairs we got are p comfy
[The small comforts of the starry night sky and the ocean waves will make this conversation easier, she thinks.]