The accusation hits its mark and Hennessy hisses as though stung, whirling about to shoot a furious glare at him because the other alternative is letting the fear catch up with her.
"Can we not?"
The fight they need to have isn't the one she wants to have in here, not when he's got the upper hand even in her own space. Not with the Lace (don't name it) threatening around the edges of her psyche, always and forever. Not when she knows he's still trying to save her.
"It's here, the real one. I can tell. I won't dream a copy."
She's not sure that makes any sense, since the real one should be back in the waking world, in the teahouse where she'd fallen asleep. But she's so used to forgeries that she thinks she has to try harder for the real thing, and therefore the dream responds as though she does.
no subject
"Can we not?"
The fight they need to have isn't the one she wants to have in here, not when he's got the upper hand even in her own space. Not with the Lace (don't name it) threatening around the edges of her psyche, always and forever. Not when she knows he's still trying to save her.
"It's here, the real one. I can tell. I won't dream a copy."
She's not sure that makes any sense, since the real one should be back in the waking world, in the teahouse where she'd fallen asleep. But she's so used to forgeries that she thinks she has to try harder for the real thing, and therefore the dream responds as though she does.