i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
no longer writing in the third person
She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
hiding from the rain
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.