winces: (( twenty-five ))
olivia. ([personal profile] winces) wrote in [community profile] futurology 2016-03-11 12:43 pm (UTC)

[ she doesn't know how or why or when it happens — later, when she is to replay this moment in her head, she won't even be able to pinpoint the exact moment he suddenly changes before her. it's so seamless, so natural, as if this sharpness, this coldness, had always been there all along.

waiting.

the chill that runs down her spine keeps her frozen, lilac eyes locked on bright red that seem to entrance her. her breath had caught, too, somewhere along with her words, because for a few moments she can't even manage a response other than staring.

his words almost sound accusatory. challenging. or perhaps he's merely curious or concerned for her well-being — but in her insecurity-riddled mind, she can only hear mockery.

you can't do this. of course you can't.

she swallows suddenly, expression twisting into something determined and foolishly, foolishly stubborn. ]


I'm no stranger to death, if that's what you're asking.

[ she doesn't look it, but she's seen her fair share of horrors. war certainly grants people enough opportunities for that. and though her hands are small and delicate-looking, they'd held a sword before, and driven it into enemies when she's had to. it pains her, and maybe someday it might ruin her... but she can definitely stomach it. if only because she has to. ]

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