untitled rights tale

It's warm, on the night she leaves.

Matías has known for a long time that his sister is stronger than him. Marceline is all laughter and improvised solutions, scribbled theorems smudged in pen on her labcoat, loud and magnetic and gregarious in an effortless way he could never hope to achieve. Pragmatic but compassionate, adventurous but reasonable—she takes after her mother, doesn't she? is something he hears whispered from behind more than once. Implicitly, at least as Matías sees it, it's a subtle indictment of his own personality, an unspoken unlike that high-strung basket case. He tries not to think about it too much.

writing is so fucking hard i cant eventhink of a funny metaphor

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