You see, at first, I did regret you. I regretted ever giving you that satisfaction of having me so easily. I used to regret ever being so vulnerable for you. I would regret the memories we had created at 2PM as well as the ones at 4AM. Now, I’m just so thankful for you. You taught me that there is nothing wrong with showing a man just how crazy you are for him, it is not my fault you were incapable of loving me back. You taught me my worth. That I should not lose an ounce of sleep, crying over something that is completely out of my hands. You taught me how to love myself enough to let you go. Because of you, I know what I deserve now and I will never settle. You did that. I am forever grateful for you.
This is the moment I truly fell in love with Sophie Devereaux. Her instinctive reaction to Parker (whom she hardly knew at this point) saying she was sick was to check on her, to offer a caring touch that Parker may not have felt in a very long time. I was surprised. I mean, femme fatales I know. Maternal figures, I know them, too. But a femme fatale with a motherly side? I sat up and took notice.
That’s how Leverage got me. It took all these tropes, shook them all up, added a pinch of this and that, and somehow gave us complex human beings we’d want to get to know and understand. So we got a femme fatale who mothers everyone, an emotionally intelligent tough guy, a charming and outgoing geek, a mastermind whose own life is out of control, and a childlike innocent who is perhaps the most dangerous member of the crew. And by the time the show’s over, not one of them has remained the exact same person we met in the first season–they’ve all changed and grown, as a family and as individuals, they’ve let their edges melt and overlap into each other while settling more comfortably into themselves. And we saw it happen.
you looked over across the room at her. and there she was. her head tossed back, long hair flipped over one shoulder to frame the right side of her face. she is laughing, showing off all of her teeth, her nose scrunched up in the way you used to love. her eyes meet yours for a split second, and then it hits you. it’s her, it’s been her the day she walked into your English class two years ago. but then she’s looking away, the same smile still on her face, and you know that she’s never going to be yours again.
Ever since we broke up, I tried to get you out of my mind. I wanted to forget about you.
But the little things got to me. Remember the white daises you gave me when I cried? One tiny daisy was growing at my backyard. Did you see the bright full moon yesterday? I remembered when you showed me the constellations before the meteor shower.
It hurt when the memories unconsciously flooded my mind. My heart ached for once more chance to do it all over again. I want to go back in time and see you again.