Maeve
And just like that he's shut her down. That light in her eyes disappears and her expression shifts into something blank. Her hand falls from his arm as soon as the scales appear and she takes a step back. "Okay." She says softly, drawing back into herself as she returns her attention to the sandbags that are piled haphazardly at her feet. All still empty and waiting to be filled. Maeve doesn't have it in her to push anymore. He doesn't want to listen. He doesn't care to. Even still, the Madame has only a few words left for him, "I would have too... If I had someone to love like that." As it is, she doesn't and she honestly doesn't know that she ever will.
Maeve turns away from him, pouring her attention into the already filled bags, hefting them up and dragging them to where they need to be stacked. It doesn't matter that this is a difficult task for her. One that he would be better suited for him, but she doesn't know what else to do. Too worried about encroaching on his space. Too worried she's making things worse than they already are. So she gives him space and lets silence fill in instead, putting distance between her and him. It's all she can think to do.
Maeve turns away from him, pouring her attention into the already filled bags, hefting them up and dragging them to where they need to be stacked. It doesn't matter that this is a difficult task for her. One that he would be better suited for him, but she doesn't know what else to do. Too worried about encroaching on his space. Too worried she's making things worse than they already are. So she gives him space and lets silence fill in instead, putting distance between her and him. It's all she can think to do.
These violent delights
Have violent ends
Have violent ends
