she hated this , the fact that she was in view of someone else & they could see right through her . maybe that’s why she does this , to get another person’s opinion on herself , like a mirror . god – even thinking about that makes her scream internally . delilah’s taking a deep breath , wavering , wanting for every single part of her mind to be blocked away from whatever he’s doing .
& she’s smart , she really is . nonetheless , she’s better than this , some observation that he’s probably doing mentally – trying to see how insane she really is , to be calm , to display herself as a good person , friendly – jovial , when in fact , she’s nothing but a killer . always has been , truly . manipulative , too . no wonder she’s good at this . “ tell me , ” she’s sighing , putting a pause on her words as she’s looking at him , directly , with the gun still pointed at him . “ why would i go from my boss to you ? what can you offer me that they haven’t ? ” she’s curious , with her brows raising , head tilted to the side . delilah’s studying the other , allowing his words to seep into her head . of course she’s there by someone else’s request & she does her job , quite well , if she could speak . “ i can’t disclose that information , ” which means , she is . she just can’t say more about it , considering her status , at the moment .
“ is this another way for you to fully investigate me ? who i am & things like that ? ” she’s chuckling , wanting so badly to pull it , to shoot him , right in that petty face of his . “ killing you would be the one thing that fulfills me . ” & whilst she doesn’t care about anything else , this is what makes her feel better , what brings her joy . the feeling of killing someone & washing their blood off in the shower – she’s designed to do this , no matter what . & nevermind how heartless she can be , & no wonder why she doesn’t have any close prospects , they’re alike , yet so different . alone , of course . but loneliness is everywhere , really .
& his words are what hit her , the way he’s granting her permission to do it – is he setting her up for something terrible ? has he already called the police ? no , he doesn’t seem like the type to do that , not right off the bat . which is why , she’s curious , watching as her fingers shake right above the trigger , as if she’s having a panic attack . “ welcoming death already ? ” she’s asking , like there’s a worry sinking in her bones , contemplating on actually doing it . no second guessing , she’s doing it . lifting up her weapon , pointed directly at the other – taking a deep breath , however , she’s wondering if it’ll count if she shoots somewhere else in the room , acting like she did it .
♞– Her breathing is enough to alarm him to the fact that this isn’t a lost cause. He merely notes it, glancing at the clock on the wall then back at her. He’d consider more but then it makes him think he can drag this to it’s full extent.
❝Truly I can only offer you the unseen servitude for the Empire and nothing else.❞ He says, with a light hint of amusement as if he’s all too aware of the irony—never remembered, never mentioned. He does good work but nobody knows, or could even tell what with his lowly income. He’s humble yet oh so arrogant, too, it’s the paradox of his work. ❝Ah, of course, contract confidentiality. Familiar with that as I am, all things considered—It’s such a shame. Who would have known, maybe that’d be thing to inspire fear in me…?❞ He eggs on, still sounding nonchalant.
The only time he’s ever was truly scared when a gun was pointed at him was at Stonewood manor… nothing else cuts as close and clear, than his kin in an irrationally emotional state, waving around a weapon like it didn’t matter. But that would have added salt to injury, not being shot—but the person who would have done it. Other times have been so banal that Mycroft didn’t grace them with the fear it should have evoked. When the topic was brought up by his colleagues, he merely shrugged and the one time he was forced into counseling he raised the question out of curiosity. Then it was described to him as Blunted Affect, which Mycroft found no interest in dwelling on. He was not his mother’s son, never was close to it. Siger was the only one who ever found semblance of pride in him, before his early passing. Nothing else came to a connection. This is no different. He blinks, standing up and pointing at his head momentarily.
❝Faster this way, isn’t it?❞ He’d reward her with a fall, why not… He spares a glance at the clock once more, noting the sparring one minute left. Barbara was well scheduled, never being a minute early or late. Truly only a miracle could save him now, not that it really bothered him. He wasn’t amazingly well versed in combat so a fight was out of the question… He waits patiently, for the next move by his guest.
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