it feels like we're ready to crack, these days, you and I
Ronin smiles - a small and fragile thing that doesn't meet his eyes - at the prospect of actually dying next time; evidently the memory of his last brush with death is still a raw and detailed thing in the forefront of his mind. Still, he appreciates the compliment all the same.
"Anything like what?" he asks, forgetting for a moment that he's just dismissed his spooky visitor as a figment of his tired subconscious. "I mean, uh... no. No, she doesn't leave anything. Or say anything, either, she just... Looks at me." And that's perhaps the most unsettling part. "I can't tell if it's a good look or a bad one."
Suppressing a shudder and reaching for the cup of water he's poured on his bedside table, the gesture is clearly made with the intention of giving his hands something to do. Frowning, Ronin lets the rest of what Remi has said sink in slowly, as if deciding what to do with it. "You're the real fuckin' deal aren't you?" he mutters eventually. "I... is she going to follow me when I leave?"
"Anything like what?" he asks, forgetting for a moment that he's just dismissed his spooky visitor as a figment of his tired subconscious. "I mean, uh... no. No, she doesn't leave anything. Or say anything, either, she just... Looks at me." And that's perhaps the most unsettling part. "I can't tell if it's a good look or a bad one."
Suppressing a shudder and reaching for the cup of water he's poured on his bedside table, the gesture is clearly made with the intention of giving his hands something to do. Frowning, Ronin lets the rest of what Remi has said sink in slowly, as if deciding what to do with it. "You're the real fuckin' deal aren't you?" he mutters eventually. "I... is she going to follow me when I leave?"
when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die
