Gideon stares at her, mouth tightening, but it's too much: she reaches for her sunglasses and slides them back on, twitching them up her nose. Her insides feel like a mess, all goopy and squirming and upset. It feels like Harrow stabbed her with Naberius Tern's trifold knife; it feels like she's back on the Ninth getting dressed down by Aiglamene.
"You made me your cav," she says slowly. "I didn't choose this. You make me paint my face, you didn't let me talk, you order me around with notes and apparently you've been talking about me to anyone here who will listen! I am trying, Harrow. I'm trying! But if you want me to stop, just say the word. I'll be happy to leave you right the fuck alone."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2020-10-16 06:42 pm (UTC)"You made me your cav," she says slowly. "I didn't choose this. You make me paint my face, you didn't let me talk, you order me around with notes and apparently you've been talking about me to anyone here who will listen! I am trying, Harrow. I'm trying! But if you want me to stop, just say the word. I'll be happy to leave you right the fuck alone."