11-29-2017, 08:26 PM
(This post was last modified: 11-29-2017, 09:56 PM by Kenna.
Edit Reason: clarity
)
"Good," was the sharp response when he said Martin might leave if things don't work out. While that may seem precisely the spiteful thing to say in the moment, she seemed to genuinely mean it-- Ned could tell because the familiar crease of worry appeared between her eyebrows in the half-second following the statement. She started packing up her small kit and crossed to the sink with the pipe to clear it out. "Then everything goes back the way it was."
She hesitated for a moment with the pipe, then turned it over and sent the ashes into the sink with a tap of her fingers against it. Water ran to rinse them down the sink (those kinds of ashes were no good to her), then returned to her place across from Ned at the counter, closing the box once the pipe had been returned to it. Her hands settled on the closed lid, and she looked back up into his face with eyes that went glassy instead of red to betray her inebriation. Her words were calm but not drawling; the drug helped quell anxieties that would otherwise muffle her logic and confidence alike.
"Honestly, I think it's going to be an actual miracle to get through even one of those questions in its entirety in one go. I'll give it a shot, though. I mean... supposing there's a chance my gut is wrong and he's not actually who he says? I still need to go figure out who the hell he actually is and why he'd do what he's doing, and why with me."
Her fingernails, short and clean of lacquer, tapped the wooden lid a couple times. A pause, a couple more taps, then she sighed and shook her head and leaned down to put the kit back in the drawer from whence it came. "Whoever he is, though, I just don't think he'll go away that easy."
"But!," she added with an intentional dollop of enthusiasm, more for herself than anything, and snatched up her keys from the counter. "I'm about to go find out."
She hesitated for a moment with the pipe, then turned it over and sent the ashes into the sink with a tap of her fingers against it. Water ran to rinse them down the sink (those kinds of ashes were no good to her), then returned to her place across from Ned at the counter, closing the box once the pipe had been returned to it. Her hands settled on the closed lid, and she looked back up into his face with eyes that went glassy instead of red to betray her inebriation. Her words were calm but not drawling; the drug helped quell anxieties that would otherwise muffle her logic and confidence alike.
"Honestly, I think it's going to be an actual miracle to get through even one of those questions in its entirety in one go. I'll give it a shot, though. I mean... supposing there's a chance my gut is wrong and he's not actually who he says? I still need to go figure out who the hell he actually is and why he'd do what he's doing, and why with me."
Her fingernails, short and clean of lacquer, tapped the wooden lid a couple times. A pause, a couple more taps, then she sighed and shook her head and leaned down to put the kit back in the drawer from whence it came. "Whoever he is, though, I just don't think he'll go away that easy."
"But!," she added with an intentional dollop of enthusiasm, more for herself than anything, and snatched up her keys from the counter. "I'm about to go find out."