[ It isn't callous, but it's definitive enough that it serves to sober her to an extent — thinking about something that had been a firm part of her, only to be taken away so that she could look as conventionally beautiful as anyone else from the exterior, painfully dispensing with the crooked spine and uneven features that had made her the subject of scorn and rejection. In the end, it had just been one part traded for others, had it not? But it was that part from which her choice had been taken from her, a choice she had fought in vain to retrieve by any means necessary.
His face, half-hidden, draws her back to the present moment, and she makes an attempt to straighten her weight only to find herself tipping in toward where his head makes the bed dip. Ultimately she doesn't fight it, rolling over until she's stretched out on her stomach, chin resting on the back of a hand so that her head is directly in front of his own and that single eye now visible. ]
You're the one who had drinks to share. [ She hoists the bottle up in her other hand, the contents audibly sloshing around, but her eyes don't leave his face. ] Made some of the soul-baring almost worth it.
no subject
His face, half-hidden, draws her back to the present moment, and she makes an attempt to straighten her weight only to find herself tipping in toward where his head makes the bed dip. Ultimately she doesn't fight it, rolling over until she's stretched out on her stomach, chin resting on the back of a hand so that her head is directly in front of his own and that single eye now visible. ]
You're the one who had drinks to share. [ She hoists the bottle up in her other hand, the contents audibly sloshing around, but her eyes don't leave his face. ] Made some of the soul-baring almost worth it.