MABEL
Her eyes had only briefly gone over the slate of steel, the cutting edges of these throwing knives Aamu had described, striving to memorize the pictures, the images, when another entered. She’d hoped the place would be deserted – giving, granting, her ample time in her sullen attributes to study and peruse without anyone asking why. Without piercing further. Aamu would know. Wessex would know. That was enough.
Perhaps, if she remained very still, cloaked in the bits of shadow, she wouldn’t be seen. The youth could be almost entirely silent when she wished, and poised in rigid complexities –
And too late. Already spotted.
Half a hiss lay embedded behind her teeth, but she couldn’t begrudge the man wandering towards her. “Sunjata,” she offered, a neutral tone, hands ghosting over the tome she’d poured over. Perhaps he knew better than to press too much right now, some inherent ability to understand a surly disposition, and her eyes went down to her designated table and desk as he sauntered a few rows over. A safer expanse. From what couldn’t be quite certain – too many munitions and emotions cluttered her skull now. “What are you looking for here?” Childish, impudent curiosity instigated and riled, and nothing much more, palm stretching over her pages.
Perhaps, if she remained very still, cloaked in the bits of shadow, she wouldn’t be seen. The youth could be almost entirely silent when she wished, and poised in rigid complexities –
And too late. Already spotted.
Half a hiss lay embedded behind her teeth, but she couldn’t begrudge the man wandering towards her. “Sunjata,” she offered, a neutral tone, hands ghosting over the tome she’d poured over. Perhaps he knew better than to press too much right now, some inherent ability to understand a surly disposition, and her eyes went down to her designated table and desk as he sauntered a few rows over. A safer expanse. From what couldn’t be quite certain – too many munitions and emotions cluttered her skull now. “What are you looking for here?” Childish, impudent curiosity instigated and riled, and nothing much more, palm stretching over her pages.
If you dig under my feet
You will find things that you don't want to see
You will find things that you don't want to see
