if it doesn't burn a little
Weaver shrugs as he says it is his fault. Perhaps. But she still doubts that it’s all one-sided. Nothing ever is, not really. Not if you dig past the obvious, past the anger down to the truth of the matter. Though she doesn’t push it, not right now. She’s pushed enough for one conversation, she suspects.
Instead, she chuckles slightly. ”Maybe just don’t try,” she says, tone light. Honestly, it would take a lot for him to truly piss her off. A scuffle, a disagreement? Sure. Those things came with life, and there was no reason not to expect them. But to end a relationship? He’d pretty much have to hurt her loved ones, on purpose, and she didn’t think that was the Loren she knew.
Weaver takes a breath, pushing herself off the wall and looking around the room. She lets out the breath, closing her eyes for a moment, as if to remember this place. To remember Maea. ”Is there anything else we should look for, do you think?” It was a small room, and she wasn’t sure there was much left for them to take. Perhaps it was time to leave the dead to rest.
Instead, she chuckles slightly. ”Maybe just don’t try,” she says, tone light. Honestly, it would take a lot for him to truly piss her off. A scuffle, a disagreement? Sure. Those things came with life, and there was no reason not to expect them. But to end a relationship? He’d pretty much have to hurt her loved ones, on purpose, and she didn’t think that was the Loren she knew.
Weaver takes a breath, pushing herself off the wall and looking around the room. She lets out the breath, closing her eyes for a moment, as if to remember this place. To remember Maea. ”Is there anything else we should look for, do you think?” It was a small room, and she wasn’t sure there was much left for them to take. Perhaps it was time to leave the dead to rest.
-- weaver
then what's the point in playing with fire?
