no subject

( he'd had that lingering suspicion that there was— something. karen page put on such a bright, put-together, ostensibly normal exterior — the girl next door — but the average person didn't just invite a bleeding stranger into their apartment to stitch them up. and he'd started to get to know her in the time ever since. he'd been on the other end of those late, lonely texts. had started to put two-and-two together that there was something beneath that brittle exterior, some aching void inside her that he couldn't put his finger on but there were hints at it, in her messages, in the things she did and didn't say about her family and her past.

maybe that was part of why he liked her so much. these days, he's drawn to other broken people. )

i'm sorry that happened, karen.
and sorry if i'm prying.