so easily, too, though she misreads the conflict on his face for disdain.
the logical part of her mind knows she can't blame him — shouldn't, really; what does he know of her abilities? her capabilities? she'd shown him her dollhouse power on the first day, but what good had it done either of them when it really mattered? that tattoo branded on their chests, matching the bullet scars they both share — they're reminders of her failure, of the plain and simple fact that it had been her recklessness, her foolish folly to cost them both their lives.
for lavi, it only made sense that he should dismiss her. that he should see her incapable and weak, when truly that's the only thing she's shown him thus far.
and it shouldn't matter to her, either. her pride is wounded at it, but a wounded pride is something she can get over; a run in with this tyki man, this noah, is quickly sounding to be something she — a frail, mortal human — cannot.
and yet it burns. angers her more than she thought it would, wounds her more than she thought herself capable. she had a debt to repay. and a point to make. ]
I can help. [ she doesn't know how, or if she even can, but she wants to. she has to. head lowered, hands balling into tiny fists at her side. ] I'm not— weak, you know.
no subject
so easily, too, though she misreads the conflict on his face for disdain.
the logical part of her mind knows she can't blame him — shouldn't, really; what does he know of her abilities? her capabilities? she'd shown him her dollhouse power on the first day, but what good had it done either of them when it really mattered? that tattoo branded on their chests, matching the bullet scars they both share — they're reminders of her failure, of the plain and simple fact that it had been her recklessness, her foolish folly to cost them both their lives.
for lavi, it only made sense that he should dismiss her. that he should see her incapable and weak, when truly that's the only thing she's shown him thus far.
and it shouldn't matter to her, either. her pride is wounded at it, but a wounded pride is something she can get over; a run in with this tyki man, this noah, is quickly sounding to be something she — a frail, mortal human — cannot.
and yet it burns. angers her more than she thought it would, wounds her more than she thought herself capable. she had a debt to repay. and a point to make. ]
I can help. [ she doesn't know how, or if she even can, but she wants to. she has to. head lowered, hands balling into tiny fists at her side. ] I'm not— weak, you know.
[ defective defective defective ]