[ Sentiment can be a heavy burden. Andy knows that better than most. Sometimes it feels like the weight of her love will break her. When she pretends she doesn't give a damn, it's a survival tactic — a defense mechanism that keeps her all in one piece — for all the good that pretending even does her. How long as she been in the city? A few months and change? And here she is, doing the same sentimental shit all over again.

She should probably regret it. She might, eventually. But not yet. Not here. ]

If no one else gives a shit, then we don't have to either. Right? [ She's often indulged a passive suicidality. Always fighting the curse of her immortality. Always daring death to take her. Playing Russian roulette with her life. It didn't matter — except when there was someone waiting for her to come home. ] It's hard to be loved. To have other people's happiness depend on you. [ A twinge of wryness then: ] I probably would have run the fuck away too.