Taking a steadying breath, Steve had to lean away from Marie just a little; he was a little afraid of what he'd do if they stayed cozied up together like two schoolkids sharing secrets on the playground. He gave her a lopsided smile. "I promise I won't hurt myself. Thanks."
It wasn't until he was just getting ready to lift the table again that something in her words pinged uncomfortably, and he glanced over at her. He kept his voice low as he asked, "You know, huh?" Was she really just referring to the fact she'd already seen him lift and move two of them by himself? Or was his story so unique that no amount of obfuscation and vague wording could hide who he was?
This was the first time he'd really tried discussing his past with someone who didn't know who he was already, and he knew he'd made a few minor slips, but he hadn't thought they were anything that would let her connect the dots. He couldn't think of any one point where she'd started treating him differently, either. Maybe she didn't know, and really was just talking about the strength he'd already displayed.
It wasn't that he didn't trust Marie, but it was disquieting not knowing how much she knew.
He started moving the table again; just because everyone seemed to be ignoring them didn't mean they really were, and standing in the middle of a half-disassembled room over an upturned table was plenty unusual anyway. He kept his senses alert this time, though. Maybe too alert, with the small paranoia niggling at the back of his brain that she might know.
He'd been planning on telling her anyway. He wasn't sure why this was bothering him so much, unless it was just the fact that he hadn't been able to control how she'd found out. If she'd found out, even.
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It wasn't until he was just getting ready to lift the table again that something in her words pinged uncomfortably, and he glanced over at her. He kept his voice low as he asked, "You know, huh?" Was she really just referring to the fact she'd already seen him lift and move two of them by himself? Or was his story so unique that no amount of obfuscation and vague wording could hide who he was?
This was the first time he'd really tried discussing his past with someone who didn't know who he was already, and he knew he'd made a few minor slips, but he hadn't thought they were anything that would let her connect the dots. He couldn't think of any one point where she'd started treating him differently, either. Maybe she didn't know, and really was just talking about the strength he'd already displayed.
It wasn't that he didn't trust Marie, but it was disquieting not knowing how much she knew.
He started moving the table again; just because everyone seemed to be ignoring them didn't mean they really were, and standing in the middle of a half-disassembled room over an upturned table was plenty unusual anyway. He kept his senses alert this time, though. Maybe too alert, with the small paranoia niggling at the back of his brain that she might know.
He'd been planning on telling her anyway. He wasn't sure why this was bothering him so much, unless it was just the fact that he hadn't been able to control how she'd found out. If she'd found out, even.