the river rises —

     “No,” she says carefully, because — she’s not completely sure why but alerting him to the fact that something’s changed is probably a poor idea. “You were looking at me.”

                    She feels sick.

-- he doesn't know what he thought anymore. It's slipped away, and he doesn't feel like he can try and reach it. Shaking his head, he glances down, looks back up at her. "I thought I recognized you."

Never fucking mind. There are a lot of people he thinks he recognizes -- Andras, he thinks his name is, and the demon of drowning from the second circle, and he doesn't know her name -- but he doesn't, he never does. "Silas."

     Still, they made the deal, this is where they go — she holds her hands open, and they’re forced downwards, scratching at her palms. Something feels like it’s touching the inside of her skull, and she looks up.

     — Silas is staring at her.

     It doesn’t seem malevolent, truthfully — confused is the wrong word, but it’s the closest she can get. There’s an uneasy feeling in her chest, but she meets his gaze, regardless. It isn’t — she doesn’t know exactly (she knows who) what happened to make them stop fighting, but she knows they did and there is very little chance any of them wanted to. And it would be impolite to look away.

She meets his gaze, and the world snaps back to him.

Fuck. What the fuck was he thinking about?

He's dropped his fucking whip, anyhow, let it slip from suddenly frozen hands to the floor. Jumping from the ledge -- it's not that fucking high -- he drops to the floor, picks it up, finds his eyes returning to her again. The fuck is she? Some reaper?