Thalassa
Standing there, killing time,
Can't commit to anything but a crime
Can't commit to anything but a crime
The answer doesn't surprise her, having guessed as much, although it leaves her with the question of just how close they are. There's not jealousy per se, at least not yet. The regrets are still stronger, the self-blame and self-hatred too overwhelming to leave any room for others, Vesper included. It doesn't mean she'll ignore how frustratingly strong his is, how he's managed to prove just how easily he can stand against her wrath with barely a blink. She can't argue that he's capable, an understandable choice when Colt had been facing down two tigers on her own.
With a begrudging sip of her drink, she nods a reluctant agreeance. "True enough." Although she couldn't disagree more with the second statement and she pauses midmotion with the surprise of it. He might have been justified, but it doesn't change the fact that when she'd needed someone - anyone - to help her, he'd decided to leave her to suffer. And yet this woman seems to have had different experiences with him, ones that make her think Vesper would come to her aide.
This time she lets out a huff of breath that's too hollow to be a laugh, disbelieving and frustrated all the same. "'Dependable.' I guess that's only when he doesn't believe you deserve whatever shit you got yourself into." She doesn't say any more, cleaning out her second glass in a fluid motion that summons the bartender without her needing to ask. Her eyes don't turn to Colt, not wanting her to see the ache that lives there now.
With a begrudging sip of her drink, she nods a reluctant agreeance. "True enough." Although she couldn't disagree more with the second statement and she pauses midmotion with the surprise of it. He might have been justified, but it doesn't change the fact that when she'd needed someone - anyone - to help her, he'd decided to leave her to suffer. And yet this woman seems to have had different experiences with him, ones that make her think Vesper would come to her aide.
This time she lets out a huff of breath that's too hollow to be a laugh, disbelieving and frustrated all the same. "'Dependable.' I guess that's only when he doesn't believe you deserve whatever shit you got yourself into." She doesn't say any more, cleaning out her second glass in a fluid motion that summons the bartender without her needing to ask. Her eyes don't turn to Colt, not wanting her to see the ache that lives there now.
