The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes--
The life still there, upon her hair--the death upon her eyes.
The life still there, upon her hair--the death upon her eyes.
Her eyes widened in horror as he began to wax poetic. Horror because it was obviously making the already uncomfortably intense situation more so, but also horror because he'd immediately found her weakness. While she wasn't in the right headspace to be truly vulnerable to his words, that didn't mean they had no affect on her at all. For a start, she was now blushing brighter than she had since- Well, probably whenever Porphyria had last made her blush (a shockingly regular occurrance really if one thought about it).
When he dropped her hand, her hand stayed exactly where he'd left it in an awkwardly rigid snake-like post for a full two seconds before she finally remembered to return it to her side. And you. Too. For me. A pleasure. Desperate to recover from this awkward attempt at courtesy, she threw out the first words that came to mind and then seriously wished she'd just never left home that evening. You kn-know Porphyria, do you not? Of course he knew his own sister! What I meant- I- I know she is your... She abruptly gave up talking before she could somehow make it any worse than it already was.
Outfit | Tag: Don Juan Dempsey | Notes:
