[ her nostrils flare, her entire body committing to its best impression of a dragon breathing out steaming flames. it's infuriating how quickly he reduces her to this — petty and juvenile, casting aside whatever power she had gained to nearly bowl him over with her temper. at her sides, the patented leather of her heels creaks from the tight grip she exerts on them, to resist the temptation to tackle him to the ground like a raging lunatic.
that, she's certain, would start a scene. ]
At least I bothered to ask you.
[ it doesn't feel like the leg up on him she wants it to be. no, she has the distinct impression it only makes her look — pathetic. insane enough to invest the effort in chasing him down just to tear the truth from him, as painful an effort as ripping off a fingernail. ]
I think you're angry they took something from us, and you're deciding to punish me for it because you can't punish the actual culprit.
[ she's confident in that unfaltering interpretation, and though there's so much more she could assume, so much more she could poke and prod at to unnerve him — she's already bristling at the test he's given to her. ]
I think — [ her chest heaves and falls as she pulls in mouthfuls of air, blowing out a heavy exhale to try to shove the messy sheet of dark hair out of her eyes. ] — you're acting like a child. But if you want to pretend I don't know what I'm talking about, fine. Make it someone else's problem, then.
[ ... not that she's any better in the "acting like a child" department. her lips purse with an impotent frustration, lower lip jutting out petulantly. she tosses her shoes to the ground at his feet and turns to begin stomping down the road without them, damp and barefooted, apparently forgetting they're on the same route back to the train in the middle of her own fit. ]
no subject
that, she's certain, would start a scene. ]
At least I bothered to ask you.
[ it doesn't feel like the leg up on him she wants it to be. no, she has the distinct impression it only makes her look — pathetic. insane enough to invest the effort in chasing him down just to tear the truth from him, as painful an effort as ripping off a fingernail. ]
I think you're angry they took something from us, and you're deciding to punish me for it because you can't punish the actual culprit.
[ she's confident in that unfaltering interpretation, and though there's so much more she could assume, so much more she could poke and prod at to unnerve him — she's already bristling at the test he's given to her. ]
I think — [ her chest heaves and falls as she pulls in mouthfuls of air, blowing out a heavy exhale to try to shove the messy sheet of dark hair out of her eyes. ] — you're acting like a child. But if you want to pretend I don't know what I'm talking about, fine. Make it someone else's problem, then.
[ ... not that she's any better in the "acting like a child" department. her lips purse with an impotent frustration, lower lip jutting out petulantly. she tosses her shoes to the ground at his feet and turns to begin stomping down the road without them, damp and barefooted, apparently forgetting they're on the same route back to the train in the middle of her own fit. ]