For the millionth time she muses that he’s better with words than she is. So many people assume the opposite from the way she hangs back behind his shoulder while he bares his teeth, calm to his agitated. Guzma has always been the one full of speeches and showmanship, but his charisma has always been real ——— he knows what to say to cut through to the bone.
Her, she’s never been much of a talker.
It’s hard not to fall silent now. Refusing to speak more than absolutely necessary has always been her way of coping with discomfort, especially when all she wants if to feel her barriers firmly in place ——— except that with him, there is no need of them.
Fingers flex against the skin of his back as she rubs her face against his chest, smearing what’s left of her makeup in the process. Finally, after some moments, her shoulders tighten and there comes a quiet, mirthless laugh.
“ You talk like I’m human or somethin’, ” she murmurs. “ I don’t think I been human for a real long time, G. ”
He’d lost many white undershirts to her makeup, what’s one more?
“Don’t talk like dat,” his grip tightened, “Yer th’ most human outta all’ve us. Certainly more human then me, Plumes....”
He tipped her head up just a bit, to make her look at him. His expression was like that of stone--stern and serious--but behind his eyes, he couldn’t conceal the sadness that resided there.
“Life’s been hard on ya. It ain’t fair. An’ that--that thing--ain’t got no right t’ make ya feel like dis.”
He was losing his words now, choking up a bit on his own anger. He didn’t want to falter, not now, not in front of her--so he merely quieted himself.
Instead, he wrapped his coat around her, and pulled her into his lap. He hoped to make her feel protected, even if he couldn’t protect her before.... Every time he caught a glimpse of her glass eye, it was a stunning reminder of his own shortcomings. Where had he been when she’d lost her eye? Off fucking around. Getting drunk or high. Hard to say at this point...
gummygunk
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