𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬'𝑺 𝑪𝑹𝒀𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑳 𝑩𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑩𝑶𝑶𝑻𝑺 && anger in her heart. An array of questions assault the mind && leave naught but a battered expanse of unfair thoughts. Of remorse, of guilt, of desperation; his question interrupts her train of thought. && it's as if all of the anger within herself toward herself reroutes at a moment's notice. It rises in the basins of her palms, or in the way the tips of her fingers twitch in an inclination of violence. There's a desire to be free of this pain---even if only for the moment. To impart its saber's edge to the gullet of another.
It can't protect . . .
The tension in her jaw sets with malice. Raw emotion goes against the grain of her patience (thin already from his showboating && overzealousness).
"All of that bellyaching.. like you aren't responsible for what happened to her." Her teeth grind in the set jaw's hold; she hisses through her teeth, the bridge of her nose curls. It's a testament to her ire that holds taut to her bones like scars. Her soul is riddled with the ache of a childhood stolen away. Only to now be burdened all the more by the loss of all that held her together. && so, on a pivot of her heel, she whips around to face the broadness of her frustration's source (oh, how foul a lie that is ! lightning, o'lightning.. you know that isn't true ). A voice, a sneer; she bellows out her frustration in so deep a cut. She means to hurt him, intends to make him feel the gravity of this situation. Undeterred by the way his smile never reaches his eyes && the sorrow within. She doesn't care. She just hurts. She's hurting.
