Of course you did. I'm sure you and Claude will find plenty of uses for them.
[ She sounds positively world weary at the thought of more things fuelling their already active imaginations but an echo of a laugh colours it. Her own words spark some preemptive annoyance as if waiting for the spark of her bitter jealousy to appear.
To stifle them she makes quick work of the shrimp, placing them alongside the other skewers on the grill. The spit and sizzle of the meat and seafood fill the silence she lapses into. Contrary to her earlier statement her mind wanders to things that are definitely not of the sparkling variety: these new mortifying feelings for him, worry over how they would only complicate and fuel the jealousy, why she couldn't escape this perpetual cloud of gloom, and how Sylvain seemed to be just fine with everything that had happened in the Featherhive.
Somewhere there's a version of her that hadn't spent as much time as she had with Sylvain and might have thought that what she saw on the surface was the beginning and end of it all. That whatever memories of his the Featherhive had dragged violently out that had reopened old wounds in the process disappeared in the morning light. But she knows better - scars linger and sometimes keloid growing bigger and difficult to ignore.
Her discussion with Claude about how he had been giving Sylvain more time before asking him still lingers in the back of her mind. Quietly she wonders if she should ask, her doubt from that conversation rearing. Her worry engulfs it, pushing her instead to ask the question she had been wondering as the days stretched on. ]
Are you okay? After the Featherhive I mean. [ Her words rush out. ] You don't have to talk about it. I understand if you'd rather speak with Claude or Jesper about it I just thought I'd check.
no subject
[ She sounds positively world weary at the thought of more things fuelling their already active imaginations but an echo of a laugh colours it. Her own words spark some preemptive annoyance as if waiting for the spark of her bitter jealousy to appear.
To stifle them she makes quick work of the shrimp, placing them alongside the other skewers on the grill. The spit and sizzle of the meat and seafood fill the silence she lapses into. Contrary to her earlier statement her mind wanders to things that are definitely not of the sparkling variety: these new mortifying feelings for him, worry over how they would only complicate and fuel the jealousy, why she couldn't escape this perpetual cloud of gloom, and how Sylvain seemed to be just fine with everything that had happened in the Featherhive.
Somewhere there's a version of her that hadn't spent as much time as she had with Sylvain and might have thought that what she saw on the surface was the beginning and end of it all. That whatever memories of his the Featherhive had dragged violently out that had reopened old wounds in the process disappeared in the morning light. But she knows better - scars linger and sometimes keloid growing bigger and difficult to ignore.
Her discussion with Claude about how he had been giving Sylvain more time before asking him still lingers in the back of her mind. Quietly she wonders if she should ask, her doubt from that conversation rearing. Her worry engulfs it, pushing her instead to ask the question she had been wondering as the days stretched on. ]
Are you okay? After the Featherhive I mean. [ Her words rush out. ] You don't have to talk about it. I understand if you'd rather speak with Claude or Jesper about it I just thought I'd check.