[She doesn't retreat when he approaches, not even when he gets close enough for her to feel his presence, the slight stir of air caused by the movement of all his layers of clothing. She doesn't flinch, even when he drops the act, when everything in his expression shifts in a way she recognizes immediately. There's so much of it--so much suffering, so much anger, rage, and yet--she doesn't blink. Red eyes meet amber and there's nothing in them but a sudden clarity of understanding, a sense of compassion. This is what she could have been. If everyone had given up on her. If she'd stayed. There's a spark in her eyes, a flare of recognition, something so much older than a girl her age should be. Here is someone who knows pain and anger at the world and how consuming it can be.
Her voice is quiet when she answers, but no less firm in her answer.]
no subject
Her voice is quiet when she answers, but no less firm in her answer.]
Yes. I'm sure.