Susan stays where she is for a moment, chewing on her lip. This is stupid. This is really stupid - this kind of wild, reckless game last played for such high stakes. There are no stakes here, nobody's life on the line, no ranch to be lost or family to be penniless, no child to save.
On the other hand, she reminds herself, not much to lose, either. It's just a game, childish and stupid and maybe dangerous, but nothing more than a game. And there've been times, when she was younger, that she did flirt for a game - before she was spoken for, before she fully realised what the cost of prettiness could be. What men with power will do to girls who catch their eye.
The guard is young enough, at least - probably only a few years older than Susan - and he doesn't look like his knuckles would crack if he grabbed at her. He doesn't look like he'd pant like a dying ox while he rutted at her. And she no longer has her purity to protect - there's that, too. Her hand drifts to her belly again, half-unconscious.
Quit gawping, she snaps at herself. Do it, or don't.
And now she's said she will, and she's a woman of her word. Whatever that means, in this place. She takes a deep breath and, with a silent apology - Understand, Roland, it's only a game. I don't mean a thing by it. I don't and never will. - starts towards the guard in question. Hesitates halfway there, turns away, and bites her lip until it bleeds, hoping that it - along with the faded bruises from her attack on the cell when she first arrived - will tell a story of someone in need. Truth be told, she'd rather have him pity her than want her, and hopes more than a little that he'll do neither, that she can shrug and say she tried.
Unfortunately (fortunately) when she approaches him, he's got that look in his eyes she's seen from boys before, those guarded, stolen glances of someone who sees something he shouldn't want. 'Ponine clearly chose the right target, Susan thinks - a little too bitterly, considering she agreed to this. She puts on her best please-sai-I'm-only-an-innocent-girl smile, and reminds herself that she's not flirting, not really, whatever Eponine said. She's just... distracting him. Being friendly. It's not the same.
"Say sorry, sai, I know I shouldn't ask, only..." She bites her lip - not to bring blood this time, just for effect - and twists a long strand of hair around her fingers. "I wondered if..." Then, inspiration strikes. A question she really does have, and a way to hopefully win his pity and attention while losing his more carnal interest. "If there's someone I could see, a doctor or a witch or such. Only..." She leans in close, as if sharing a secret, and tries not to look past him to see what Eponine is doing. "Only I need to know, sai. I truly do."
She's got his attention, anyway. He frowns, clearly torn. "Know what?" he asks, gruffly, obviously trying to seem less concerned than he is.
"If I'm... I was..." She doesn't have to feign the tears. They've been waiting to come for days. Like this, at least, she can tell herself it's an act, a way of gaining that sympathy she sees in his face, a way to make him move to comfort her - as he does, his full attention on her as she covers her mouth with her hand, racked with sobs. "I was with child."
As a distraction, it seems to be working. Your turn, 'Ponine.
no subject
On the other hand, she reminds herself, not much to lose, either. It's just a game, childish and stupid and maybe dangerous, but nothing more than a game. And there've been times, when she was younger, that she did flirt for a game - before she was spoken for, before she fully realised what the cost of prettiness could be. What men with power will do to girls who catch their eye.
The guard is young enough, at least - probably only a few years older than Susan - and he doesn't look like his knuckles would crack if he grabbed at her. He doesn't look like he'd pant like a dying ox while he rutted at her. And she no longer has her purity to protect - there's that, too. Her hand drifts to her belly again, half-unconscious.
Quit gawping, she snaps at herself. Do it, or don't.
And now she's said she will, and she's a woman of her word. Whatever that means, in this place. She takes a deep breath and, with a silent apology - Understand, Roland, it's only a game. I don't mean a thing by it. I don't and never will. - starts towards the guard in question. Hesitates halfway there, turns away, and bites her lip until it bleeds, hoping that it - along with the faded bruises from her attack on the cell when she first arrived - will tell a story of someone in need. Truth be told, she'd rather have him pity her than want her, and hopes more than a little that he'll do neither, that she can shrug and say she tried.
Unfortunately (fortunately) when she approaches him, he's got that look in his eyes she's seen from boys before, those guarded, stolen glances of someone who sees something he shouldn't want. 'Ponine clearly chose the right target, Susan thinks - a little too bitterly, considering she agreed to this. She puts on her best please-sai-I'm-only-an-innocent-girl smile, and reminds herself that she's not flirting, not really, whatever Eponine said. She's just... distracting him. Being friendly. It's not the same.
"Say sorry, sai, I know I shouldn't ask, only..." She bites her lip - not to bring blood this time, just for effect - and twists a long strand of hair around her fingers. "I wondered if..." Then, inspiration strikes. A question she really does have, and a way to hopefully win his pity and attention while losing his more carnal interest. "If there's someone I could see, a doctor or a witch or such. Only..." She leans in close, as if sharing a secret, and tries not to look past him to see what Eponine is doing. "Only I need to know, sai. I truly do."
She's got his attention, anyway. He frowns, clearly torn. "Know what?" he asks, gruffly, obviously trying to seem less concerned than he is.
"If I'm... I was..." She doesn't have to feign the tears. They've been waiting to come for days. Like this, at least, she can tell herself it's an act, a way of gaining that sympathy she sees in his face, a way to make him move to comfort her - as he does, his full attention on her as she covers her mouth with her hand, racked with sobs. "I was with child."
As a distraction, it seems to be working. Your turn, 'Ponine.