Lorina’s smile unfurled suddenly at the word rabbit — not wounded, nor irritated by it.
The expression spread across her lips slowly — and controlled, curling at both corners now. She rocked back onto her heels, the motion seeming almost childish in nature. Her gaze lingering on Barbara for a moment, before she turned her head.
" Well, " she started, voice filled with a certain amusement, " for starters, you really ought to stop saying rabbit like that. "
One gloved hand came up, fingertips adjusting the limp white ear perched atop her head. Fabric bent beneath her touch as she smoothed it absently. Cherishing the ridiculous headband with almost uncanny sincerity.
" You might rile a girl up. "
Another laugh escaped her then, sounding like it was in the wrong room. Like it belonged somewhere more convincingly comedic.
Then, she moved closer once more. Eyes fixated on the redhead.
Not enough to touch. Not yet.
Never enough to justify recoiling.
Only enough for her presence to fill the edges of Barbara’s space, pressing in like perfume sinking into fabric.
Her eyes wandered shamelessly across the redhead’s face — the sharp green of her gaze behind lenses that held stories, the tension gathered neatly in her jaw, the careful composure sitting atop her shoulders like armor stitched closed too tightly.
" Look at you. " Lorina’s voice lowered, warm and wicked. " Giving strange women pet names, like you want to keep them. "
For a moment something sharpened beneath her sugary theatrics, quick as a rabbit caught beneath stage lights.
" New York bores me. " The rabbit dressed woman confessed with an over the top pout. Rolling her eyes toward the ceiling as though the city itself personally disappointed her.
" Everyone there tries terribly hard to be monstrous and cruel, yet in Gotham.. " A soft scoff left her lips. " It is in their blood. " She fluttered her fingers vaguely.
Gaze settling back onto — into Barbara.
" You hide your bite, don’t you? "
