Her arms were folded, her stance squared. Savino could read the signs in front of him just as well as in the tea leaves: she didn’t like this, she didn’t want to listen to him, she certainly wouldn’t trust him, maybe wouldn’t even believe it. She looked – well, tough. Like she could beat him up if she wanted to. (It was not hard to look capable of this, admittedly; fighting of any kind was not Savino’s forte.)
So he couldn’t possibly look a threat but he relaxed his shoulders, didn’t move any nearer, left himself open-faced and open-handed, undefended, anyway. “No, it’s –” He hated this part. He wished it hadn’t happened in his head, hadn’t always been left to him to express it: why couldn’t she have dreamt it for herself? It was no good from a stranger’s mouth. Steeling himself for the disbelief, he looked at her sincerely. “No, it’s something I can do for you. I’m a Seer, and I’ve been... Seeing you, again and again, something in your future. Will you – please give me just one moment to explain it?”
So he couldn’t possibly look a threat but he relaxed his shoulders, didn’t move any nearer, left himself open-faced and open-handed, undefended, anyway. “No, it’s –” He hated this part. He wished it hadn’t happened in his head, hadn’t always been left to him to express it: why couldn’t she have dreamt it for herself? It was no good from a stranger’s mouth. Steeling himself for the disbelief, he looked at her sincerely. “No, it’s something I can do for you. I’m a Seer, and I’ve been... Seeing you, again and again, something in your future. Will you – please give me just one moment to explain it?”
