continued, omnes vulnerant; ultima necat, @theophcgy.
straw spun hair winds around a fist, shaky when she gathers, bleeding red staining the strands, sticky wet. her jaw flexing, the drag of spun thread curls sparking flashes of pain, stars that twinkle and burn away, and the strike of indignation that comes with every word he utters roaring runs beneath her skin; to bite at his fingers, give up and crawl away to her study, a wounded animal accepting looming death strewn on grass. the death of her pride hung over her like the long shadow his specter cast. she didn't want to have to face vaggie like this, not again ...
her kind hands, quick fingers rough from work dancing delicately, undercut by the frustration in the stiffness of her lip, charlie's name parting from her mouth sounding much too like exhaustion, and the steel look encased in pink and yellow seeking out answers that charlie can't give. for all her no nonsense resolve, she was patient. more than charlie deserved. more than she wanted to ask for on the nights she refused to listen, the stubborn weight of her ideals careless and crashing against vaggie's resolute walls of protection. she couldn't deal with it tonight. was this her punishment for being such a shitty friend? maybe.
a powder keg, she darts her eyes to their corners and glowers at him. we all know how well you can handle things ON YOUR OWN. his words unearth something ugly, the corner of her lip curling, and she shrugs sharply away from him when his crawling fingers move too close to the weeping wound; pounding to the tune of her frantic heart, angry and exposed.
❝ what do you want me to say, i'm not going to beg. ❞ she spits out, salt in her proverbial wound. sullenly, she wonders if she wasn't better sleeping off the pain. if she closes her eyes for long enough, she could pretend the burning creep of infection, thudding, aching, screaming, didn't bother her. an itch she couldn't scratch. fade with time, leave her numb. she'd have to sleep on her stomach though, and ... she'd have to get up the next day. could she work through blood loss? endurance was one thing, spite was another. it just wasn't fucking worth it.
she'd already lost enough of her pride coming to the wolf's den directly. to back down now, showcase cold feet would give him another reason to gloat, to prod at her── was this another one of his tests? she couldn't tell. every move a game of chess, she had to plan strategically.
she drags her hand down her face, splaying digits lethargically across her forehead. she really couldn't do another night of his games, but behaving like an asshole surely wouldn't help either. she swallows down indignation, searching for lighter footing.
❝ fuck. sorry, it's... been a long night. can't you just.. help me out here, just this one thing and i'll... ❞ she mumbles the rest under her breath. ❝ i'll figure out how to pay you back later. ❞
even though i shouldn't have to, she thinks bitterly.
❝ some things are harder to heal from than others. ❞ is all she offers. she needed her secrets too, black claws raking through gold to subdue nerves. the fact she's injured in the first place was her own foolishness, she wasn't being careful and nursing an injury back to the hotel was the price she had to pay. with time, she'd heal back up just fine, but... she could feel it. the sluggish pull and knit. sooner this got patched up the better, just... breathe and endure charlie.
