save me, she whispers. lips pressed against lips, eyes closed against the blare of sunlight in the background. pulls away and tastes salt, feels cleansed. if ever she needs heroics, it's now. she clings, holding someone close, just to feel the warmth. she's never one to run fast to something, never held onto someone when they promised to be a saviour. too many people have promised it in the past, promised they'd save her from herself when she needs it, and never come through.
(every time, she promises herself that she's done hoping)

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