Yes, I suppose you would need to be able to count higher than three for that.
( tellingly, the angle of her mouth slants upward, as subtle as a stirring wind. not quite smugness, so much as the knowing pride that comes with a successful victory. if he can laugh at the cruel edge of a sharp-tongued word, never mind parry it with his own, his spirit is not so broken as his body currently is — still wholly himself.
distantly, she considers what she might have given to hear someone titter and gossip over her sister's mistakes, when she'd been alone in an empty room. tricked, deceived, betrayed. as if she had not bled for taryn's safety, a hundred times over. as if she had not made herself a practice dummy, for every harsh jab in taryn's direction.
with the back of her hand, she taps him on the ribs, light, and pointedly wipes it from her mind. there was no use in her crying about it then, and there's certainly no use in crying over it now. )
Regrettably, I am fond of begging. Less so, of being the object of mooning. ( a lie, but then again, she is a practiced liar, best of all to herself. the fact remains: men with charm never mean well, if taryn's (very dead) husband is evidence of the fact. ) You can mark me safe from your brother's charms.
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Date: 2025-01-13 03:36 am (UTC)Yes, I suppose you would need to be able to count higher than three for that.
( tellingly, the angle of her mouth slants upward, as subtle as a stirring wind. not quite smugness, so much as the knowing pride that comes with a successful victory. if he can laugh at the cruel edge of a sharp-tongued word, never mind parry it with his own, his spirit is not so broken as his body currently is — still wholly himself.
distantly, she considers what she might have given to hear someone titter and gossip over her sister's mistakes, when she'd been alone in an empty room. tricked, deceived, betrayed. as if she had not bled for taryn's safety, a hundred times over. as if she had not made herself a practice dummy, for every harsh jab in taryn's direction.
with the back of her hand, she taps him on the ribs, light, and pointedly wipes it from her mind. there was no use in her crying about it then, and there's certainly no use in crying over it now. )
Regrettably, I am fond of begging. Less so, of being the object of mooning. ( a lie, but then again, she is a practiced liar, best of all to herself. the fact remains: men with charm never mean well, if taryn's (very dead) husband is evidence of the fact. ) You can mark me safe from your brother's charms.