"Whatever," says Gideon, going into the kitchen and clicking on the kettle,
leaning against the side. It's then that she realises that she still has
the rapier in her hand. She's spent seven months wanting Harrow here,
mourning her loss and now she's been in her company for ten minutes and
wonders why the fuck she ever missed her.
"I know you've got no joy in your fucked-up, desiccated little heart," she
says. "But you could at least try and look pleased to see me."
They'd started to make progress at Canaan House. And it feels...shit,
frankly. To remember the things that Harrow said to her right before she
died and see no evidence of them on her fucking face.
no subject
"Whatever," says Gideon, going into the kitchen and clicking on the kettle, leaning against the side. It's then that she realises that she still has the rapier in her hand. She's spent seven months wanting Harrow here, mourning her loss and now she's been in her company for ten minutes and wonders why the fuck she ever missed her.
"I know you've got no joy in your fucked-up, desiccated little heart," she says. "But you could at least try and look pleased to see me."
They'd started to make progress at Canaan House. And it feels...shit, frankly. To remember the things that Harrow said to her right before she died and see no evidence of them on her fucking face.