The beanie had been pulled over her eyes, trying to shield herself from the world that always seemed to be put to get her. You didn’t do it right, Edith. You aren’t supposed to do that, Edith. Why can’t you do anything right, Edith?
Every little thing was bubbling up, and all she wanted to do was either curl herself into a ball and disappear, or turn into an explosion and be scene by everyone. The two were widely different, but to her they were her only option.
It would seem odd to cry in front of a stranger, so Edith does her best to keep her eyes dry as they lift to meet his. When asked about proving herself, Edith immediately spoke up. “I can make my own weapons! I have acid paint and pistoles and-!” He was handing her something, and she took it in her small hands, look down at it as if it were some soft of alien thing.
Eyes mixed with realization and confusion returned to meet his, unsure of what she should do. She’s always had someone to tell her what to do, and missiles hitting somewhere random? Sure they could fall on an island, but what if they hit a city?
Syndrome paused briefly, straightening himself as she considered his offer.
A malicious glee kindled in his chest, requiring every ounce of willpower not to allow the joy
to manifest on his face. There was something about having someone
exactly where you wanted them, watching the gears turn in their head
as they’re torn between their options.
Even if she was just a child, that feeling of success was just as sweet.
He wasn’t really on the market for a protégé,
but just how likely was it that someone just up and asked for an apprenticeship?
Most kids just wanted to play the hero.
Tapping the edge of his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, he shrugged again,
“ If you can’t do it, give it back. I don’t need specifically you to be my sidekick. ”
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