she is not afraid to love, she is afraid of being loved. she is afraid of him putting all his faith in her, just so she can break down, as she does so often, and shatter a bond not found in anyone else. she is afraid to see him cry and to tear the heart he so willingly exposes.

when he needs her, she is there. she uses that time to help him just as she does to help herself. as they speak, she tries to memorize the sound of his rumbling voice. her words are soft with him but never so soft as for him to fall into a slumber and never desire to wake up. she wants him to find a replaceable solace within her presence.

she loves him silently, cares for him without pay. she acts like she doesn't need his money when she aches for it, as we all do. eventually her heart will break from a lack of reciprocity. she knows this, yet she has set her path onto love-bound self-destruction. as long as he doesn't love her, she can keeping loving him. such is the life of the volatile.