He would rather she just accept. That she stop speaking so much, her words harsh in her water-logged throat. "Shh," he says, again, bent down to whisper it against her cool brow, his hand briefly tangling in her hair, bloodless knuckles whiter. This, too, is familiar, hard hands and smothering presence -- not that he'd ever lifted a hand to her, not until the night he killed her, but there was a latent kind of violence to the plunging depths of his moods, the keen edge of his passion. Tamable, in her hands.
"I'll explain all," he promises, unsure if he is lying to her. Past her crown, he looks out at the water. It ripples, ill at ease for the disruption he has caused. "Not here."
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He would rather she just accept. That she stop speaking so much, her words harsh in her water-logged throat. "Shh," he says, again, bent down to whisper it against her cool brow, his hand briefly tangling in her hair, bloodless knuckles whiter. This, too, is familiar, hard hands and smothering presence -- not that he'd ever lifted a hand to her, not until the night he killed her, but there was a latent kind of violence to the plunging depths of his moods, the keen edge of his passion. Tamable, in her hands.
"I'll explain all," he promises, unsure if he is lying to her. Past her crown, he looks out at the water. It ripples, ill at ease for the disruption he has caused. "Not here."