you and Alice had been dancing around each other for months. you, liked her. she, wasn’t sure you were gay.

dealing with the unspoken rejection, she pretended to like a male survivor.

talking with a hushed tone to you, refusing to meet your gaze as her fingers picked at themselves through her gloves. she seemed so disinterested.. she wasn’t genuine.

it makes you tilt your head, something she catches easily, out of the corner of her eye.

“what?” Alice says, her brow furrowing.