[She laughs a little, and this time the sound isn't kind.]
Gone as in 'real gone, man, super groovy.' Gone as in gone, as in taken, as in no word, no goodbyes, as in he didn't leave of his own volition.
[Despite the venom in her tone, she's gentle as she tugs her hand away from Lydia's the moment she feels the brush of her fingers. It brings too much to the surface, too much emotion and too much pain...and if she feels it, she won't be able to function.
She has a schedule. She has responsibilities. She has a plan, and it's keeping her vertical.]
And he might as well be gone from existence right now, because until I get my deal, I can't even go home to visit with him. I will not see Isaac again until change and get my deal--if I get my deal--and that's it. Nothing to talk about, nothing else to say.
[And she attempts to end the discussion by moving across the bar to retrieve a couple of glasses.
She can talk to Lydia, wants to talk to Lydia. She can have a couple drinks and listen to her gush about Stiles and Paris, and that will be good for her...to be with Lydia, to let a little warmth from the closeness of the pack seep in and ease the pain of the howling beast living in her skin, pining for its mate.
As long as she doesn't flash that stupid picture again...she'll be just fine.]
[spam]
Gone as in 'real gone, man, super groovy.' Gone as in gone, as in taken, as in no word, no goodbyes, as in he didn't leave of his own volition.
[Despite the venom in her tone, she's gentle as she tugs her hand away from Lydia's the moment she feels the brush of her fingers. It brings too much to the surface, too much emotion and too much pain...and if she feels it, she won't be able to function.
She has a schedule. She has responsibilities. She has a plan, and it's keeping her vertical.]
And he might as well be gone from existence right now, because until I get my deal, I can't even go home to visit with him. I will not see Isaac again until change and get my deal--if I get my deal--and that's it. Nothing to talk about, nothing else to say.
[And she attempts to end the discussion by moving across the bar to retrieve a couple of glasses.
She can talk to Lydia, wants to talk to Lydia. She can have a couple drinks and listen to her gush about Stiles and Paris, and that will be good for her...to be with Lydia, to let a little warmth from the closeness of the pack seep in and ease the pain of the howling beast living in her skin, pining for its mate.
As long as she doesn't flash that stupid picture again...she'll be just fine.]