[The Hail Mary is a familiar prayer. Even as she can't possibly speak, Carrie can follow it just fine. It's familiar, just as crying against someone's lap when the world makes no sense at all is. It's familiar, but it's something she thought she'd never have again. The prayer or the way her hair is being finger-combed, she isn't sure which she's missed more across these two lonely years.
And of her hair, It suits you - a compliment? From this angel, about her appearance? That shouldn't be important, but it settles in the locked-away back corner of her heart where she keeps such things anyway. Perhaps that's how she's managed to cry herself out by the time Jeanne is gently turning her face upwards.
Some part of her might have been ashamed at being seen by almost everyone to break, but it's been a long, long day. Carrie is not content, but grateful to be guided. She looks up into eyes still startling in just how like they are to her own, blinking a few times to clear away the last of what had them blurred.]
I don't know. I can certainly try it, though. I think you're right.
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And of her hair, It suits you - a compliment? From this angel, about her appearance? That shouldn't be important, but it settles in the locked-away back corner of her heart where she keeps such things anyway. Perhaps that's how she's managed to cry herself out by the time Jeanne is gently turning her face upwards.
Some part of her might have been ashamed at being seen by almost everyone to break, but it's been a long, long day. Carrie is not content, but grateful to be guided. She looks up into eyes still startling in just how like they are to her own, blinking a few times to clear away the last of what had them blurred.]
I don't know. I can certainly try it, though. I think you're right.