we live in a world someone else imagined
"Practice makes perfect," Ronin retorts easily in response to her quip, though the pink still hasn't faded from his cheeks. Granted, they both know exactly what she's talking about (and it isn't muscle tone, washboard abs notwithstanding), and none of their antics have done anything to get rid of it even in the slightest. Still, the Star seems determined to ignore it if at all possible, although nothing about the encounter seems to have dissuaded Sera, and instead he offers her a hand up.
"So there you have it," he murmurs. "Get those perfected and you'll at least be a little more ready for anyone who tries to grab you, wherever it is you're going." With a lopsided smile, he'll help to pull her to her feet if she allows it, glancing over the dust and dirt that cover her clothes. "I hope you haven't got any important meetings after this," he says apologetically.
"So there you have it," he murmurs. "Get those perfected and you'll at least be a little more ready for anyone who tries to grab you, wherever it is you're going." With a lopsided smile, he'll help to pull her to her feet if she allows it, glancing over the dust and dirt that cover her clothes. "I hope you haven't got any important meetings after this," he says apologetically.
the dark star
