[ yves is quiet listening to her, his fingers still gently work through her hair in a way that i oocly find hilarious now. ]

... yeah. A lot like that.

[ with a little sigh ]

I was content as a child, but... I already knew that we weren't like people born outside of our country. But I still tried to love it. And it was still hard sometimes, when the flowers my grandfather loved were hated so deeply by others.

Then when I lost everything... it felt like some things were never possible. So to be here, where everyone is so kind and they treat my scar like it's nothing... I don't know.

I want to hope that it'll be alright. But.. what if it isn't?