YOU HAVE BEEN RUNNING ALL YOUR LIFE. that’s a lie. you’ve never run from a fight ever in your life — ever since you were a little girl, you stood still, you kept your ground. head held high, brows furrowed, secondhand clothes. you’ve only ran once. you’re only running now. you know why. she looks into his eyes — don’t do that, stupid, you’ll never get out —, blinking a couple of times before looking down again, biting her bottom lip as her fingers run on the marble. she doesn’t give him an answer, she doesn’t know why. the words feel TRAPPED in her throat, as if they’d rip their way out and she’d never talk again. confessions tend to make that. fill you in with guilt, guilt, guilt.
she looks at him, squinting slightly while pressing her lips together, smiling to the side. ❛ i hate to break it to ya, darlin’, but y’ ain’t me type. ❜ ha, that’s a funny joke. why do you look at him, then, for so long? why don’t you look him in the eyes? why aren’t you scratching your wrists while he’s there? why are you looking at his smile, wondering if perhaps you could ever smile like that again? HA, THAT’S A FUNNY JOKE. she intertwines her fingers, searching for something to do with them, trying to find a solution better than the incessant tapping that she INSISTED so constantly on doing.
perhaps he was close, perhaps he was TOO CLOSE, but she wasn’t eager to tell him to step away. it wasn’t making her uncomfortable, as everyone else did, nor did she feel THREATENED. there was a safety that she felt only around melody, and —– don’t lie to yourself. not here. not now. ❛ моя мать родилась в Санкт-Петербурге. ❜ she says, painfully aware of her ACCENT, the way that the words don’t come out quite as right. it’s the lack of PRACTICE. how long has it been since you’ve talked in your mother’s language? you know they didn’t ALLOW it. ❛ i’m sorry, i — it’s been a while. ❜ the apology comes without her even noticing it, flowing through her lips as natural as her breathing.
❛ if i asked ya to never do tha’ again, would y’ respect me wishes? i’m pre’y sure i’m traumatized. ❜ there’s, somewhere, a hint of a smile on her lips - genuine, not forced, how long has it been? -, and her tone is sharp, one brow lifted as she spoke. scarlett looks at him when he asks of her fairy tale, pressing her lips together and playing with her fingers. ❛ i dunno, i’ve always found it quite hopeful. marya morevna bea’s him, y’know? and he’s immor’al — she wins. ❜ you’re projecting. SHUT UP.
scarlett BLINKS, taking a moment to truly capture his words — it’s a question. do you want, do you want, do you want. IT’S YOUR CHOICE. scarlett likes how that feels. ❛ wha’? why’d i want to eat SNAILS? yer disgusting. ❜ she taps her fingers on the balcony, feeling the corner of her lips raising. she doesn’t try to keep that one from raising. she doesn’t try to hide it. ❛ do y’ have money? ❜