confess | liam & rowan
No, no, no, no, no. It was the predominant thought in her mind as soon as she realized that an errant spell had hit her once again. But this one was particularly dangerous, terrifying. Telling her professor precisely how she felt about certain experimental methods he was incorporating was the first hint that something was awry. Telling the Starby’s barista just how hot she was was the next hint. Essentially vomiting out her feelings about her dead mother at a passing stranger? No, no, no, no, no. The slave tested her theory by trying to say the sky was green, but the words refused to leave her mouth.
Rowan wasn’t in the habit of lying. Maybe playing off how she was really feeling behind humor and a certain ‘laissez faire’ attitude could be considered lying by omission but that wasn’t really lying ... right? All she had to do was avoid the people she hid her feelings from and she’d be safe. Easier said than done as an unclaimed slave who had to return to the cells after her free hour was over. And that was the last place she felt safe from the spell on the entire island.
The human tried to make herself as small as possible on her bunk, arms wrapping around her shins as she prayed certain people would not be around tonight. Of course, she had no such luck. Haunted eyes met Liam’s, grinding her teeth to try to avoid the spell’s magic. “Sir,” slipped out from a clenched jaw, mouth so tight it felt painful.
@liamoftheirish