Tryin' to stay between the lines of who I am and who I used to be
Flustered isn't a usual state for her. Flushed, certainly, but butterflies are rare, and anxiety doesn't really sink in beside the occasional roar in her ears right before she takes a decisive action. Yet there's no denying that's exactly what she is right now, flustered.
There's an awkwardness between them that stiffens her. All the easy charm and sunshine warmed fluidity of their past has retreated, at least, for her. He seems perfectly fine, she notices before long, and there's a cruel stab of uncertainty at that recognition. A familiar caution that buzzes in her head, warning her that she's misread this situation. A habit of picking something apart so cleanly in her own mind, certain she's gotten to the raw bone of it, only for reality to offer her something still matted with tendon and meat.
"Yeah, you," she confirms around a sigh that she doesn't give much volume to. A weak stretch finds her lips and a small smile flashes out for him. "You look uh... well." Her brows lift, genuinely impressed, because last she'd left him he'd been anything but. All the more reason this variant from her expectations rattles her. Has she put too much weight on their friendship, and their argument, their distance, their complete lack of anything for so long has done nothing to wear on him the way it's frayed her thoughts at night when she finally rests? Worse, is he better because she left?
His offer lands like a glass of water, immediately revealing her thirst. "That obvious?" she wonders with a subtle grimace, inwardly scolding herself to get it the fuck together. "Well, you know me, I can always do with less edges." In other words, when has she ever turned down a drink? She's positive that's what he means, her personal tequila butler out in the cold, and just the offer already warms her by a shade back into something familiar. Maybe, it's none of the things she already thought. Maybe, this is just less damaged in the end, strained but not fractured.
A laugh, too hollow with nerves even as it tries for easygoing, shakes free as her hand does the same with her hair over her shoulder. "Oh, no, no plans to yell today. It's actually part of why I'm here. Well, that and word is you might need some help with unicorn wrangling?"
There's an awkwardness between them that stiffens her. All the easy charm and sunshine warmed fluidity of their past has retreated, at least, for her. He seems perfectly fine, she notices before long, and there's a cruel stab of uncertainty at that recognition. A familiar caution that buzzes in her head, warning her that she's misread this situation. A habit of picking something apart so cleanly in her own mind, certain she's gotten to the raw bone of it, only for reality to offer her something still matted with tendon and meat.
"Yeah, you," she confirms around a sigh that she doesn't give much volume to. A weak stretch finds her lips and a small smile flashes out for him. "You look uh... well." Her brows lift, genuinely impressed, because last she'd left him he'd been anything but. All the more reason this variant from her expectations rattles her. Has she put too much weight on their friendship, and their argument, their distance, their complete lack of anything for so long has done nothing to wear on him the way it's frayed her thoughts at night when she finally rests? Worse, is he better because she left?
His offer lands like a glass of water, immediately revealing her thirst. "That obvious?" she wonders with a subtle grimace, inwardly scolding herself to get it the fuck together. "Well, you know me, I can always do with less edges." In other words, when has she ever turned down a drink? She's positive that's what he means, her personal tequila butler out in the cold, and just the offer already warms her by a shade back into something familiar. Maybe, it's none of the things she already thought. Maybe, this is just less damaged in the end, strained but not fractured.
A laugh, too hollow with nerves even as it tries for easygoing, shakes free as her hand does the same with her hair over her shoulder. "Oh, no, no plans to yell today. It's actually part of why I'm here. Well, that and word is you might need some help with unicorn wrangling?"
Colt
I been livin', I been losin', findin' out that I can't run from me
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
