Ran's tone is sharp and demanding — she isn't remotely willing to play games right now. She lets her hands curl into fists but still doesn't dare to advance, keeping her distance and her eyes away from his unwinding bandages. A part of her silently pleads for him to stop before gaping wounds or pummeled flesh can come into view, but another part of her sneers at the selfish hypocrisy of that selfsame desire.
"How could you— when—" Her throat closes in on itself every time she attempts to get the words out. She simply cannot ask him how he died, and she tells herself that the tears she fights to keep back are ones of frustration. No more.
no subject
Ran's tone is sharp and demanding — she isn't remotely willing to play games right now. She lets her hands curl into fists but still doesn't dare to advance, keeping her distance and her eyes away from his unwinding bandages. A part of her silently pleads for him to stop before gaping wounds or pummeled flesh can come into view, but another part of her sneers at the selfish hypocrisy of that selfsame desire.
"How could you— when—" Her throat closes in on itself every time she attempts to get the words out. She simply cannot ask him how he died, and she tells herself that the tears she fights to keep back are ones of frustration. No more.