[ As usual, she listens in silence, although the second Diluc mentions Donna's name, she feels her blood turn to ice. She knows the girl in question, and has more than once heard her mention her present companion to anyone who'll listen. Of course, she didn't realize that it was to the point that she would watch him each night, and the thought sends an angry chill down her spine, the fingers of the hand still at her side clenching into a fist. ]
I know who you mean. [ Her voice is cold to the point of perhaps being frighteningโ she has certainly sent men running with less of it leeching into her wordsโ but hopefully he can tell it's not directed at him. ] Although truthfully she sounds more like a stalker than an admirer.
[ And with that, she falls silent for a moment, uncurling her fingers from her Vision, unclenching the other hand, pressing a hand to her chest and just lying there for a few long moments, trying to calm the sudden wave of ice that is trying to claim her.
(Strangely, unlike the blizzard raging around the cave, this ice doesn't feel coldโ although she knows it is. There's a moment, a vague thought flitting across her mind, that wonders if he feels it from her the same way she felt the heat from him; that thought is enough to help her stabilize it, her stubbornness simply not allowing her to kill him with the cold after he's worked so hard to protect her from it.)
Another moment or two of silence, and then she speaks, her voice quiet, bitter: ]
no subject
I know who you mean. [ Her voice is cold to the point of perhaps being frighteningโ she has certainly sent men running with less of it leeching into her wordsโ but hopefully he can tell it's not directed at him. ] Although truthfully she sounds more like a stalker than an admirer.
[ And with that, she falls silent for a moment, uncurling her fingers from her Vision, unclenching the other hand, pressing a hand to her chest and just lying there for a few long moments, trying to calm the sudden wave of ice that is trying to claim her.
(Strangely, unlike the blizzard raging around the cave, this ice doesn't feel coldโ although she knows it is. There's a moment, a vague thought flitting across her mind, that wonders if he feels it from her the same way she felt the heat from him; that thought is enough to help her stabilize it, her stubbornness simply not allowing her to kill him with the cold after he's worked so hard to protect her from it.)
Another moment or two of silence, and then she speaks, her voice quiet, bitter: ]
I don't like it.