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Little Melancholies
Tsuruya: Joy, Contained
It's no cover, saying she loves watching from the sides. Voyeurism, perhaps, but genuine, interested: part of her charm.
When he's around, she can detect exhausted envy in his eyes that she will pretend not to see. She assuages it with laughter, but dares not meet his eyes lest she see behind his smug mask and trigger her best instincts. She withholds herself, just watches.
The price of her freedom? Never showing her greatest strength. Nights she dreams of sharing this clean feeling in her heart, then wakes laughing in self denial. Days, she holds her joy so close, so still.
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