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Post by Jules on Nov 3, 2008 2:09:47 GMT -5
Mary dropped the dagger readily. She didn't feel too bad, it wasn't a huge tear, it could easily be repaired. Besides, it was worth that little light going off in his head that showed him he wasn't exactly who he thought he was.
Didn't mean she wasn't a little worried. He was shaking he was so angry, and he had her wrist pretty firmly. "It's just a stupid tent." It was so much more than even she winced at the words.
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Post by Miss Jack on Nov 3, 2008 2:20:19 GMT -5
He inhaled sharply and his grip on her wrist tightened.
Get out, he would have said on any other day.
But he was nothing if not self-disciplined and with a dark look usually reserved for mud on his boots, he released her and shoved past, stalking angrily from the tent.
If she wanted to know if he would handle himself if truly provoked, then he would stay his anger, even if this childish display had ravaged a part of his home, his stupid tent.
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Post by Jules on Nov 3, 2008 8:03:45 GMT -5
Mary winced when his grip tightened, but that look made her flinch. She'd thought maybe when she'd proved it to him, she'd be able to take it all back and it'd be okay. It had been a stupid thing to assume.
She followed after him, but staring at his retreating back, she didn't know what to do. Apologize? At this point, she hardly figured that would smooth things over. And that look, like she was nothing more than dirt, had cut. She sighed. Maybe they had been stupid to think this could work when they were both so volatile. All she felt like doing was running up to him and trying to make it all better, her pride wouldn't let her.
Instead, she meandered over to the tollbooth, figuring he'd kick her out of his bed if he saw her there, let alone the main tent. She would beat him to the punch so it wouldn't hurt as much. Fingering the old musty costumes she'd called a bed oh-so-long ago was a little depressing, and she sat on them she remembered why she'd been so happy to get out of the cramped space.
This was a perfect example of who Vince was. He'd given a vagrant girl who was so annoying he'd probably prayed her dead many of times a shelter, a home. But it just so happened to be one of the most uncomfortable places he could think of.
Despite it all, she loved him. Lying down on the costume-bed she stared at the ceiling, wondering how to fix things.
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