12-18-2021, 04:31 PM
[[continued from Da Capo]]
A hint of laughter. “Don’t forget: you followed me.”
Natalie claimed to hate the game and play only by her own rules, but she still played. Adrian claimed patience. Not a man for undue risk or rashness. That was useful to know, but not necessarily what she had been looking for. She could not sway him with the recklessness of her cause, nor entice him with insinuations of power (and nor would she have been content with the latter; this wasn’t about power). Desire was easy to manipulate; everyone had a price they paid willingly for the things they most wanted – Natalie included, of course. Moving people into advantageous places was helpful, and often it was easy, but it was also a soul-destroying sort of tiring. She’d treated Evelyn like a piece on a gameboard, but what she’d truly wanted at the time was an ally.
Time forged that, and little else. But the foundations had to be laid somehow. He didn’t salivate at the thought of Brandon’s praise, or wasn’t willing to admit to it anyway. Since it was hardly a question she could ask outright, that would have to be enough.
“You’re right, I do.” She shrugged, and ignored the apology offered. She didn’t ever speak of her father, and she wasn’t about to start with a stranger. Even Jay didn’t know the half of it, and she was uncomfortable enough with what even he had seen of that particular demon. Adrian wasn’t actually asking though; or, at least, she did not think he truly cared for gossip half a decade old. Natalie’s expression had retreated into habitual stillness, second-nature reflex by now whenever it came up, but otherwise she might have smiled slyly at the tactic. She was too jaded to consider the chivalry truthful, even if it was.
“Some wrongs can’t be forgiven,” she agreed. Natalie’s was an enduring loyalty, more enduring than was probably good for her, but when betrayal severed those ties, they were severed forever. Her reply held a note of that truth, in warning or acknowledgement. She didn’t know what caused him to turn away from his family, after all, and she would not ask now, though she did drop her gaze to the ring for half a moment. He was seeking commonality not sharing secrets. “Perhaps we have something in common after all.”
By now darkness had plunged outside the car, the lights of civilisation dotted fewer. A rougher road began to grind under the car’s wheels, until it finally pulled to a stop. Little could be seen out of the windows anymore, just the reflection of their own faces.
A hint of laughter. “Don’t forget: you followed me.”
Natalie claimed to hate the game and play only by her own rules, but she still played. Adrian claimed patience. Not a man for undue risk or rashness. That was useful to know, but not necessarily what she had been looking for. She could not sway him with the recklessness of her cause, nor entice him with insinuations of power (and nor would she have been content with the latter; this wasn’t about power). Desire was easy to manipulate; everyone had a price they paid willingly for the things they most wanted – Natalie included, of course. Moving people into advantageous places was helpful, and often it was easy, but it was also a soul-destroying sort of tiring. She’d treated Evelyn like a piece on a gameboard, but what she’d truly wanted at the time was an ally.
Time forged that, and little else. But the foundations had to be laid somehow. He didn’t salivate at the thought of Brandon’s praise, or wasn’t willing to admit to it anyway. Since it was hardly a question she could ask outright, that would have to be enough.
“You’re right, I do.” She shrugged, and ignored the apology offered. She didn’t ever speak of her father, and she wasn’t about to start with a stranger. Even Jay didn’t know the half of it, and she was uncomfortable enough with what even he had seen of that particular demon. Adrian wasn’t actually asking though; or, at least, she did not think he truly cared for gossip half a decade old. Natalie’s expression had retreated into habitual stillness, second-nature reflex by now whenever it came up, but otherwise she might have smiled slyly at the tactic. She was too jaded to consider the chivalry truthful, even if it was.
“Some wrongs can’t be forgiven,” she agreed. Natalie’s was an enduring loyalty, more enduring than was probably good for her, but when betrayal severed those ties, they were severed forever. Her reply held a note of that truth, in warning or acknowledgement. She didn’t know what caused him to turn away from his family, after all, and she would not ask now, though she did drop her gaze to the ring for half a moment. He was seeking commonality not sharing secrets. “Perhaps we have something in common after all.”
By now darkness had plunged outside the car, the lights of civilisation dotted fewer. A rougher road began to grind under the car’s wheels, until it finally pulled to a stop. Little could be seen out of the windows anymore, just the reflection of their own faces.