Aurelia
as if you were on fire
from within
from within
Aurelia doesn't know the goings-ons of Jack's mind. Not like he knows hers. But she can only imagine the difficult choice he faces when confronted about the letter. Well, she imagines it's hard, so she leaves things the way she's said them. There isn't much else to say, after all. All there is is for Jack to make the decision.
With a bit of underlying interest, Aurelia takes the pack in order to peel a cigarette from it. It has a nice flavor, so she's somewhat content to oblige his offer - even if she isn't one to smoke... all the time. There's a bit of amusement at this thought, at the joke she'd made to Milo the night they met, the tease he'd retorted back at her bald-faced lie. It soon disappears though. Her attention is snapped back to the letter as he says something and sets the match upon it.
She supposes this should be a big reveal, and.. it is. Of course it is. Even if life is hard and sacrifices have to be made, survival ensured, or what-have-you... taking a life is never something light or breezy. But even if what Jack says is true, as the letter burns away, Aurelia will seem very unfazed.
So unfazed, in fact, that she leans over the desk with the cigarette pressed between her lips. Using the small flame cast by the word 'murderer', she lights her cigarette. There's some sort of weird, poetic irony in this.
Straightening back up, Aurelia drags in a lengthy inhale from the smoke, her gaze peering over it at him. When she finally releases it from her poor lungs, she says, "Life's rough." Her gaze lingers on him before it drops down to the smoldered, black bits of paper that now lie dormant on the desk. "I've killed people, too..." she admits, very plainly, "Whatever you've done doesn't really matter to me. So long as you don't judge me for what I've done. S'all about..." she lets out a heavy sigh before perching the cigarette back into her mouth, "where we go from here-" her brows lift "-isn't it?"
With a bit of underlying interest, Aurelia takes the pack in order to peel a cigarette from it. It has a nice flavor, so she's somewhat content to oblige his offer - even if she isn't one to smoke... all the time. There's a bit of amusement at this thought, at the joke she'd made to Milo the night they met, the tease he'd retorted back at her bald-faced lie. It soon disappears though. Her attention is snapped back to the letter as he says something and sets the match upon it.
She supposes this should be a big reveal, and.. it is. Of course it is. Even if life is hard and sacrifices have to be made, survival ensured, or what-have-you... taking a life is never something light or breezy. But even if what Jack says is true, as the letter burns away, Aurelia will seem very unfazed.
So unfazed, in fact, that she leans over the desk with the cigarette pressed between her lips. Using the small flame cast by the word 'murderer', she lights her cigarette. There's some sort of weird, poetic irony in this.
Straightening back up, Aurelia drags in a lengthy inhale from the smoke, her gaze peering over it at him. When she finally releases it from her poor lungs, she says, "Life's rough." Her gaze lingers on him before it drops down to the smoldered, black bits of paper that now lie dormant on the desk. "I've killed people, too..." she admits, very plainly, "Whatever you've done doesn't really matter to me. So long as you don't judge me for what I've done. S'all about..." she lets out a heavy sigh before perching the cigarette back into her mouth, "where we go from here-" her brows lift "-isn't it?"
the moon lives
in the lining of your skin
in the lining of your skin
