Date: 2010-04-08 03:18 pm (UTC)
[After a beat, she follows him out, stepping carefully this time over the broken shards from the bathroom mirror and various leftovers--meaning the broken bits of smaller and easier-to-throw furnishings. Everything will regenerate on its own, she knows.

Standing in the middle of all that, she wavers on asking him the question on the tip of her tongue. She decides against it, sighs, watches him return with the food wearily.]


You're doing an awful lot.

[Sort-of a question.]
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bastardbytrade

December 2010

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