@sanctemony → CONTINUED FROM HERE.
John can’t touch her on this side of the river, or so she tells herself. Safe in Faith’s region. He’s done enough. She still has that tattoo on her forearm. 𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓. That’ll stay there. She didn’t get a chance to say yes! and she thinks, really, it’d all just been to scare her. And it had worked, but she’ll still try and wind him up. She wonders if he knows that the only tattoo design she has in mind for him is: 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇. Right then, all she wants to do is kick some water in his face and get him a little wet, like an annoying younger sister, and the thought has her lips twitch. Zelda almost does it, too. Instead, she sits herself on the bank of The Henbane River, where the divide between Faith’s region and Holland Valley is thinnest, and places her cheeks in her hands, looking over at John. “We could have a picnic here if we’d brought along some food,” she says. It’s on purpose that she ignores his speeches. She often does. She’ll feign perfect composure whilst her heart thunders away in her chest. That tattoo still stings. He’d dug a little too deep and she’s no good with pain. Lust, pride, greed, there are many things she can be labelled, but not wrath. Look at her, John. Never wrath.