Maeve
Oh, it's her alright. Maeve hisses out a breath as she presses the dagger against his side in warning. Not that she would actually do anything to hurt him. She wouldn't. She doesn't want to. There's an odd relief in knowing that it's just him. That it wasn't someone who was going to hurt her physically. Except he hurt her in another way and she's still pissed about that. Still feeling the sting of that rejection or whatever it was. Her voice is low and nowhere near as sweet as it was the last time she spoke to him, "Why the fuck were you following me?"
Maeve draws the dagger back and gives him a small shove instead as she backs herself up towards the wall. A hand runs through her hair in irritation, disheveling the already messy hurls further. She got it cleaned up since he saw her last. The curls are soft and frame her face naturally, but her eyes are cold. "I thought we were done?" Maeve doesn't even now why she's saying it. Why she cares. Except she does. She wants answers.
The anger is already starting to fade and instead it's replaced with a weariness that's bone deep, making her sag against the wall. She just wants her bed. She wants sleep. She wants a lot of things. Aurelia, Locke, comfort, love, security, home, all of it.
Maeve draws the dagger back and gives him a small shove instead as she backs herself up towards the wall. A hand runs through her hair in irritation, disheveling the already messy hurls further. She got it cleaned up since he saw her last. The curls are soft and frame her face naturally, but her eyes are cold. "I thought we were done?" Maeve doesn't even now why she's saying it. Why she cares. Except she does. She wants answers.
The anger is already starting to fade and instead it's replaced with a weariness that's bone deep, making her sag against the wall. She just wants her bed. She wants sleep. She wants a lot of things. Aurelia, Locke, comfort, love, security, home, all of it.
Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending
still waiting for her happy ending
