[ 047 ] the art of blaming oneself

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HEART OF GLASS
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN !

HEART OF GLASSCHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN !

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[ season three, episode thirteen ]



















Marley's stomach was tight with apprehension. Rick, Hershel and Daryl had gone to meet with the Governor ━ per Andrea's request ━ in an attempt to settle the ongoing war ensuing between their respective parties. She'd met the Governor before. She knew he snapped easily. His patience wore thin, and if it did in Rick's presence, who was to say he wouldn't draw a gun and put a bullet right between their leader's eyes? They were armed to the teeth and ready to pounce into action if any trouble stemmed from this meeting, but the rifle propped between her arms did nothing to alleviate Marley's anxieties.

She swallowed a mouthful of decimated oatmeal, trying to focus on something other than the irrational pounding of her heart. Any second now, the Governor could show up at the prison fences with Rick, Hershel and Daryl's corpses. If he did, how long would it be until they were all dead, too?

Other than Merle, Glenn and Michonne, the remainder of the group weren't good fighters. They could shoot a gun but not well. Daryl and Rick were the best, and without them, it'd prove to be a mighty struggle defending their home.

"Hungry?"

Marley glanced up from her bowl of oatmeal. Carol was standing over her, watching her intently, with a rifle in her arms that looked much too big for her slim frame to handle.

"Was it that obvious?" Marley mumbled through a mouthful of soaked oats.

A light laugh slipped from Carol's lips, "Yes. It was. For a second, I was worried you were going to eat the bowl., too"

"Don't tempt me," Marley quipped.

Carol lowered herself onto the bench, placing the heavy gun down in the midst of the circular table. Under her powder-blue eyes, the woman's sheer exhaustion became apparent in the form of heavy bags resemblant to the colour of bruises. Ever since Sophia's unfortunate demise ━ and her run in with death in the tombs ━ she'd been eternally tired. Marley understood to a certain degree. Sometimes, just going through the day was like hitting a wall. Other than surviving for the sake of putting off an inevitable death, there wasn't much else to do. The exhaustion caught up with you eventually; the lack of will-power.

Carol leaned on her hand, smiling warmly, "You know, Beth told me you don't tend to Judith much. Are you not fond of babies?"

Marley's brow twitched in confusion, "Uh ━ I wouldn't say I'm fond or not fond. Just neutral."

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