it had been a long while since ada had been so acutely aware of her own horrid appearance, from matted hair -- or perhaps, more accurately, fur -- to claw-like nails &, worst of all, teeth that refused to be hidden, no matter how hard she might try. of course, it should be taken into consideration that she’d never attempted to hide any of these faults before -- she took her peculiar new traits as they were, albeit with a great sense of dread. but, dread or not, she never was so determined to keep them unseen. there had never been a reason, anyway, as the only souls left around her to whisper about it were, in a quick instance, silenced EASILY by a growl & a bit of a snarl.
but this guest was no servant & no one to be quieted by such violent means ( TRUST, though, that ada had tried that method, and it neither calmed the stirring in her chest nor made her looks any easier to grapple with ). no, fury did nothing to help her now, & so she had to suffer in silence, afraid to even so much as approach the man she’d so selfishly taken captive -- & what a beautiful man, she thought often. handsome & kind & nothing at all like her, the beast who hunts like a dog & probably smells much like one, too. if there were hope to break the curse, she herself certainly didn’t see it ----- perhaps refused to, for at least some small part of her knew she’d have to work harder for this to work, and she was scared by that ( though this fear would never once be articulated ).
all this contemplation on fear did nothing to make her any less nervous ( she found introspection rarely was of any use, which was probably why she’d so vehemently avoided it altogether for quite some time ). were her once small hands more visible, it would be instantly clear that she had maintained, at most times, a constant tremble whenever in beau’s presence. even now, she worried about her body betraying her, as she opened her mouth to speak, but found nothing worth saying for a long, seemingly never-ending moment.
despite her clear reluctance to confront any of her current misfortunes in social mannerisms, and stubborn inability to embrace change fully ( or, at all ), she couldn’t help acting on her sense of intrigue, which boiled inside of her to the point of risking it all spilling out. though it was true she was terrible at holding conversation, she did wish to ask questions -- surprising, actually, in that never before had she been so curious to know a person ; her mind sought, during her prolonged silence, appropriate words to speak, and though she felt she was rushing herself far too much & would therefore never come up with anything wothwhile, her strength of will overpowered, for the time being, her tendency to be silent.
she began & soon halted, being not so keen to stumble with words, yet still needing a moment longer to compose herself ( as a young lady, she was taught never to utter ‘ UM ’ or ‘ UH ’ in polite company ; certainly she forgot this rule often, but never when genuinely trying to come off as civil ). ‘ -- where you might be from. ’ as soon as she finished speaking, that familiar discomfort flooded her in a way that practically sent shivers down her bones, and she at once regretted even opening her mouth ; oh ! to be able to retreat right now -- quickly back into her own, private room ; to be safe from undoubtedly making an absolute fool out of herself -- but it was certainly TOO LATE now.
jacobvanloon
discoholicmusic
areudirty
jbbartram-illu
gummygunk
baratheonpilled