[ A flinch at her name, it almost sounds like there's something genuine behind it. Something she recognizes. Longing?
It's a distraction. Something false, something he's feigning on purpose, and something she can't afford to fall for. She hurriedly searches for something, anything. In her haste, she knocks a bottle of ink onto the floor, shattering. The metal nib pen is hardly a weapon, but it's the best she's got.
Turning on her heels, her knuckles are white around the pen, holding it more like it's a deadly sharp knife than something she had spent her meager wages on. It's hilarious to think it's even a useful in this case. ]
No. I'm safer here.
[ Maybe? Marginally? But it's not hard to figure out that she doesn't think that's true either. ]
no subject
It's a distraction. Something false, something he's feigning on purpose, and something she can't afford to fall for. She hurriedly searches for something, anything. In her haste, she knocks a bottle of ink onto the floor, shattering. The metal nib pen is hardly a weapon, but it's the best she's got.
Turning on her heels, her knuckles are white around the pen, holding it more like it's a deadly sharp knife than something she had spent her meager wages on. It's hilarious to think it's even a useful in this case. ]
No. I'm safer here.
[ Maybe? Marginally? But it's not hard to figure out that she doesn't think that's true either. ]