ƒ α ℓ ℓ є η ;

( with that, he managed a faint smile on his lis ;; at least he hadn’t offended her. that was a good job — for him, any way )

‘Thank you, I’m not good with words ———- Nice to know someone appreciates it’

( brows furrowed, yes he could u n d e r s t a n d as to why she would doubt him, but the boy had no intention of harming her, or anyone for that matter )

          ( how strange it was to finally laugh once more ----- it seemed as though years had passed since her last brief encounter with joy.           the reminder was more than refreshing. )

                    ' i suppose you do have a rather defendable argument ----- but you cannot blame me for being cautious. '

          ( once the strict peel of lips had been thoroughly contained ;; she raised the smooth metal to her lips ----- welcomed with the lovely taste that certainly would deem itself 'hard' to depict. )

( he looks to her for a brief moment, her touch suffocating. it’s different to any touch he’s ever felt before. he’s delirious and she feels holy, though holiness has always been out of his reach. he doesn’t know if she’s sent by death, or god, or his imagination, but he pulls back, hiding his head in his hands.

he isn’t worthy to look at her. worthiness is earned by the good you do, or the hardships you’ve faced, and Flynn doesn’t remember much of that. he remembers sin / grit / fear. god never seemed to make an appearance. even as a child he understood - every late night teaching, every bible thrown in dismay, every symbol of religion filled him with nothing but hollow apathy. it was never his to believe.

she shouldn’t be looking at him. he’s t o r n apart: a famished torso stacked on miles of limb and bone. the clothes that cling to him were never supposed to be his in the first place. hell, the shoes and jacket were handed to him by a stranger. there’s nothing on him she should value.

he threw punches. he’s no better than the man who bloodied him.

          ( & the broken and bloodied man lying dismantled on the cold ground nearly breaks whatever bits of a heart she has left. touching his face and she has view his soul ------ twisted, misguided ;; but p u r e. terrible and unbeknownst to it's owner.

          pain that would make any mortal keel over and shrivel wound in circles in her gut ----- and the longer she stalled on healing this man's pain ;; the greater her's swelled.           she places the palms of her hands on his own ;; a gentle pull taking them away from his face and placing them on the sides of her own.           a smile that just barely nicked the corners of pale lips. reassurance to a man about to be h e a l e d. )

                    ' look at me. '

          ( eyes that synced in color with her own ---- and she placed herself on his level. the rough surface of his palms were welcome on the unscathed sides of her face ----- blood, dirt ;; she welcomed it all.

          & with one hand she laid it gently beneath his ribs, with the other returning home to the side of his face. eyes closed ; the twisting ache in her stomach growing evermore until she shushed him with kiss to his forehead ;; lips of a celestial being brushing a gentle course over a troubled man with a soul needing only a touch up.

          angling back now, she took his hands in hers ;; smile ever present as the pain slowly diminished in tune with his own. and her only wish was that he never be cursed with that feeling again. it was excruciating.)

"——………. I have known strife, if this is what you mean to imply with your—…inquiry.”

[ He had not projected such a contentious subject for conversation, especially with an individual he had just met. It made him uncomfortable in a way—the idea that remorse could be offered to him—respect could be granted to him—in unrequited appreciation. He does not understand; and yet he’s upset by the memories that began to permeate his most sequential of cognitive processes, his consciousness. He doesn’t like the fact that this girl can evoke such an emotion from him. ]

          disputation among siblings and all was reduced to chaos.           destroyed in every way that mattered ----- earth now held the authoritative title of 'home. )

                    ' i am limited to only healing wounds of the flesh.                     ... ------- but you are something of a fighter, are you not? and strife will not be the catalyst to your demise. '

          ( it is merely that of the celestial order that causes her work to become her. soft in words ; gentle in touch ----- relief is all she'd every wished to give.

          the corroded dip of eyebrows comes when the sense of discomfort locates in her mind. troubled lips mull over in a line and she cannot express her deepest apologies. )

{ She is doing something Important. And that means, that she has been compiling a long list of people that have gotten off for crimes that they most certainly did commit.

She picks those people because she figures they’re more likely to be paranoid. It’ll be easier to get under their skin. Because Gale and Regret have put aside their differences to become the most dangerous alliance that will end very badly, for everyone else. }

          ( it's curious to find one so invested in a certain work ---- eyes peeled and hands invested in accomplishing one task.           who knew right from wrong?

          ----- supple tips here and there ; compiling into a firm theory of what this 'work' actually was. an act of justice? --- well, those were her boundaries. )

——but mihail radev was nothing if not p r o u d of his power, and taught his progeny to be the same, to her discomfort. ]

          & any girl with the fire of a woman deserved the highest of praises.                               and sorrows.           perhaps, one day, —— she’ll voice her esteem. )

[He’s leaning against the wall in a side alley, the breath wheezing out of his chest slowly. The length of pipe clatters to hit the ground and the man on the ground convulses a little, blood leaking from the side of his mouth to pool against the ground.

          ( lured out by the scent of death —— and captivated by the untamed blur of { sin } and p a i n also occupying the scene.                               ——- her specialties.

          appearing in a gust of wind she pauses to take in the scene. face void & emotionless ;; elongated extensions of her hand twitching in a delicate dance.           a serpent of a smile ebbs the corners of her lips. )