Work Text:
“You’re a child, Bobby Briggs. Big, tough football star playing make believe like a child.” Laura laughs, loud and angry. She’s strung out on coke but she’d have said it anyway.
“A child,” she says again. Her face twists into a different kind of unhappy—imploring eyes brimming with unshed tears.
She scrambles into the cup of the tree stump, tearing her tights at the knee and drawing blood. She peers down at Bobby, like something fey from his imaginary world.
He reaches out for her.
“Don’t you touch me! Don’t you fucking dare!” Laura shrieks.
Bobby chokes back tears.