Yes--yes, that's exactly what I meant and couldn't say--yesexactly. Thank you--
Well, he may be in love, but that doesn't change anything. He's well aware this isn't a girl you shower with roses or lillies, and what's more, if she were, he wouldn't. In fact, if she were, she'd never have interested him in the first place.
He has to ask the right kind of questions now, and he wants questions that won't let anything on about him. His sharp girl is not the kind of girl who would be gentle if she knew he was in love with her. She'd probably bite him.
He goes over all these things in his head, and realises how well he understands her. That pleases him extraordinarily. He likes things he understands.
"What do you think of me?" he demands, in a voice that admits no desire to know the answer.
ooh. XD it's utterly guil, he has to think this through first, and ask the right kind of questions. and i like the bit about he likes things he understands. but aah, what's she going to say?
"What do I think? I think you're a self-absorbed idiot and you ought to stop following me the hell around," she snaps, tossing her sharp head with the tangle of red hair. "And what do you think of me?"
Perfect. "Harpy," he tells her with a smirk. "Wouldn't you agree?"
And then she smiles at him, a tight, thin smile that makes her ugly face uglier and excellent at the same time. Neither of them say a word. She agrees, and it's perfect.
no subject
Well, he may be in love, but that doesn't change anything. He's well aware this isn't a girl you shower with roses or lillies, and what's more, if she were, he wouldn't. In fact, if she were, she'd never have interested him in the first place.
He has to ask the right kind of questions now, and he wants questions that won't let anything on about him. His sharp girl is not the kind of girl who would be gentle if she knew he was in love with her. She'd probably bite him.
He goes over all these things in his head, and realises how well he understands her. That pleases him extraordinarily. He likes things he understands.
"What do you think of me?" he demands, in a voice that admits no desire to know the answer.
no subject
um. word. ... 'word'?
no subject
Perfect. "Harpy," he tells her with a smirk. "Wouldn't you agree?"
And then she smiles at him, a tight, thin smile that makes her ugly face uglier and excellent at the same time. Neither of them say a word. She agrees, and it's perfect.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject