( there's something about the room that's different — none of the furniture or the knickknacks, which are all as orderly as ever, but a palpable presence somewhere in the space between them. a notable weight, darkness back in the alcoves of emmrich's mind. worrisome, parisa thinks, but not an impossible feat. people are never stationary, are always changing and moving and processing, little puzzles not generally meant to be solved. she could pry him out of the dark with their open honesty policy, she could seduce it out of him one feather at a time, pushing away to find the bone and sinew beneath. parisa isn't convinced it would be hard — she's wormed her way so deeply into the apple heart of him, she's willing to bet a look could crash and burn him.
of course, that's the precise reason why she does nothing of the sort. open honesty policy only qualifies if it's open and honest when you least want it to be. she considers. another woman? tossed aside — emmrich is not as boring as that. worries about the future? could be, if parisa doesn't have all the facts. the only way she gets all the facts is by cracking open the eggshell of emmrich's mind. so — a thought loop. the answer remains: the only way to know what's bothering him is to listen when he speaks.
regally, she takes the offered seat, folding one leg over the other. her arms cross over her chest, not grumpy but not wanting to get distracted by his affections. this is serious, she can tell — the anxiety in her heart tells her as much. )
Speak it, then.
( you're scaring me she thinks, expression impassive. )
no subject
of course, that's the precise reason why she does nothing of the sort. open honesty policy only qualifies if it's open and honest when you least want it to be. she considers. another woman? tossed aside — emmrich is not as boring as that. worries about the future? could be, if parisa doesn't have all the facts. the only way she gets all the facts is by cracking open the eggshell of emmrich's mind. so — a thought loop. the answer remains: the only way to know what's bothering him is to listen when he speaks.
regally, she takes the offered seat, folding one leg over the other. her arms cross over her chest, not grumpy but not wanting to get distracted by his affections. this is serious, she can tell — the anxiety in her heart tells her as much. )
Speak it, then.
( you're scaring me she thinks, expression impassive. )