LOREN
Well, the first words out of Rexanna’s mouth would’ve been fine enough on their own. Kind of annoying, and unnecessary, but not enough to prompt anything more than a cursory response from Loren. Indeed, he even gave her that. ”You’re welcome.” His words came out short, and clipped, and without a hint of courtesy. However, despite the fact that she seemed to want to do it in person, it could have certainly been accomplished with a note.
He had little time for unnecessary pleasantries these days; given how dark his mood had become and how much work he still had left, he wasn’t really willing to be polite. And that was before she started complaining about how long the past few weeks had been—an understatement if he’d ever heard one—and he felt the ice uncoil within his breast. It felt good and right there, in a way the simpering and cautious manner he’d had before never had. ”Long. And hard.” He let the heavy words fall between them, and what might’ve sounded like an innuendo under other, happier circumstances just sounded ominous.
And when she asked how he’d been the last few weeks, he even cracked a smile. However, it was as rigid and mirthless as his eyes were, which it definitely failed to reach. Tapping a finger on his chin, he feigned thinking about the question for a brief moment. ”How have I been? Hmmm. Well, let’s see. Pretty fucking terrible. Thanks for asking though!” He pushed off from the wall and took a confident step towards her, drawing himself up to his full height. ”How’ve you been, though? How’s the husbandddd? Did you enjoy the honeymoon? Still basking in that marital bliss?” This time, the Launceleyn’s voice came out in a tuneless sing-song, and he started pacing back and forth, hands now clasped behind his back.
He had little time for unnecessary pleasantries these days; given how dark his mood had become and how much work he still had left, he wasn’t really willing to be polite. And that was before she started complaining about how long the past few weeks had been—an understatement if he’d ever heard one—and he felt the ice uncoil within his breast. It felt good and right there, in a way the simpering and cautious manner he’d had before never had. ”Long. And hard.” He let the heavy words fall between them, and what might’ve sounded like an innuendo under other, happier circumstances just sounded ominous.
And when she asked how he’d been the last few weeks, he even cracked a smile. However, it was as rigid and mirthless as his eyes were, which it definitely failed to reach. Tapping a finger on his chin, he feigned thinking about the question for a brief moment. ”How have I been? Hmmm. Well, let’s see. Pretty fucking terrible. Thanks for asking though!” He pushed off from the wall and took a confident step towards her, drawing himself up to his full height. ”How’ve you been, though? How’s the husbandddd? Did you enjoy the honeymoon? Still basking in that marital bliss?” This time, the Launceleyn’s voice came out in a tuneless sing-song, and he started pacing back and forth, hands now clasped behind his back.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
