( it makes her smile a little, through her paled face and bloody lips, to imagine a world in which that was true — or truer, maybe. everyone hates parisa a little, which she's used to and knows to expect, but she has it on good authority embry has a marshmallow core where peaches usually have stones, a natural inkling towards affection, usually covered up by his own shitty behaviors. case in point: people who hate you don't usually mop up the vile crusts of your hands, stained with bird-blood and sick-blood, like it's not a bother. reina wouldn't do it. alina wouldn't do it. that's not the self-loathing speaking — that's fact. embry, despite contrary measures, is a sweetheart.
so, the marriage isn't surprising. she luckily never taught embry how to disguise his thoughts, so it's all blatant in the forefront of his mind, the wind wisps of his voice following the salty sea air, i don't know how to make anyone happy. she sits up with a warbling groan, knocking into him with her knees, jutting out her chin in a silent request for him to clean up her face, too. a ring on his finger — it's very sweet. but his mind is as frosty pacific northwest as ever, and parisa is more aware than your average whore that marriages came be fleeting, temporary little pit stops. embry's never struck her as a one-man kind of guy, but then, she could be imposing the bias of herself on the person most similar to her. familiarity but association does not a pattern make.
still, she's polite enough to offer, ) Congratulations. ( and sound sincere about it, hand weakly squeezing his knee.
ever more interesting that the prison of commitment, parisa's eyes focus as best they can to his words, eyebrows pulling together. something happened to embry and she didn't know about it? well, parisa, that's what happens when you shut people out. externally, she's completely unbothered, even casual in her neutral mocking expression, not holding the same gravitas as usual considering how sickly she looks. internally, she's punching embry in the nose — if she didn't know aggression from women was a wildly inefficient way of getting what she wants, she might consider it, noodle limbs slapping against a war studied american soldier. )
Interesting. ( her tongue clicks in thought. ) Different, sure. We'll go with that. You've seen my predicament — what happened to you?
no subject
so, the marriage isn't surprising. she luckily never taught embry how to disguise his thoughts, so it's all blatant in the forefront of his mind, the wind wisps of his voice following the salty sea air, i don't know how to make anyone happy. she sits up with a warbling groan, knocking into him with her knees, jutting out her chin in a silent request for him to clean up her face, too. a ring on his finger — it's very sweet. but his mind is as frosty pacific northwest as ever, and parisa is more aware than your average whore that marriages came be fleeting, temporary little pit stops. embry's never struck her as a one-man kind of guy, but then, she could be imposing the bias of herself on the person most similar to her. familiarity but association does not a pattern make.
still, she's polite enough to offer, ) Congratulations. ( and sound sincere about it, hand weakly squeezing his knee.
ever more interesting that the prison of commitment, parisa's eyes focus as best they can to his words, eyebrows pulling together. something happened to embry and she didn't know about it? well, parisa, that's what happens when you shut people out. externally, she's completely unbothered, even casual in her neutral mocking expression, not holding the same gravitas as usual considering how sickly she looks. internally, she's punching embry in the nose — if she didn't know aggression from women was a wildly inefficient way of getting what she wants, she might consider it, noodle limbs slapping against a war studied american soldier. )
Interesting. ( her tongue clicks in thought. ) Different, sure. We'll go with that. You've seen my predicament — what happened to you?