"This might sound familiar to you," Octavia muttered. "But I needed to be heard. And understood."
A breath. Still not fully steady.
"I was bringing something to you that I'd been keeping to myself for a while," she continued. "At least for me, I was saying that there is this thing that I haven't been able to do, and I felt like what I was getting back was that I should be able to. Like I couldn't even get the problem across. And I needed so badly to feel understood." Here, she turned to look to Lucifer. "Bad enough that it makes me pedantic."
Because what else had there been left for the desperation in her, except clinging to words?
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A breath. Still not fully steady.
"I was bringing something to you that I'd been keeping to myself for a while," she continued. "At least for me, I was saying that there is this thing that I haven't been able to do, and I felt like what I was getting back was that I should be able to. Like I couldn't even get the problem across. And I needed so badly to feel understood." Here, she turned to look to Lucifer. "Bad enough that it makes me pedantic."
Because what else had there been left for the desperation in her, except clinging to words?