angel of valhalla

"I have no siblings."

She sips from the glass in her hands, deep purple staining pink.

One leg crosses over the other, icy blues pierce through a thick curtain of lashes. He shouldn't have asked and he already knows it. He shouldn't have brought it up, he shouldn't have tried to use it to taunt her, for the information she had collected on him outweighed his own knowledge tenfold.

When she stands, silk catches the light and dazzles his vision for a brief moment. She offers him another drink, apparently unfazed by the poor attempt to catch her off guard.

"So, you believe that would be happier out there?" 

The woman raises her right hand in warning, silencing the other person in the room before they could speak. She already knows the answer, they both do, it hangs between them, blocking their paths, inhibiting them both from coming into contact with one another. She doesn't want to hear it. She doesn't want to look at the person seated across from her; the only thing in this mild-colored space that does not belong. It was made of this same stark white and yet, it seemed to fare far better detached from it.

She averts her eyes and drops the manila folder across the clean surface before them.