#!convo

          "Don't beat yourself up to it, Daniel, this is not your fault." It's not on you, it's on me. There's nothing that you could have done. I don't blame you, Anya doesn't blame you. Don't do this to yourself. She wants to say, but she doesn't. 

             "I've already said no. You don't send a puppy to clean up their own mess." It wasn't the easiest of tasks and she knew it, but she also lacked the time to do it herself. She didn't, for a single moment, even considered that Daniel would not be able to close it with perfection, and yet. Her voice doesn't sound disappointed, nor angry. It sounds rather---frustrated.

          "Why are clients always so fucking stupid" She asks, more for herself than anything. You'd think that she wouldn't feel as committed to a job that was mainly a lie, and yet.

              "Now, what's a pretty girl like you doing in a dirty place like this?" 

                "Now, please, do tell me there's something interesting about you. I'd hate to have my time wasted."

                    "Excuse me," she says and her voice is small, tentative, hesitant. Her voice lacks trust, but purrs of sweet (fake) embarrassment "could you tell me where you found that book? I've been to hell and back for it, and yet could not find it anywhere."

                  She doubts she can figure out how to untangle her headphones.                   Away! they go with a flick of her wrist. It's not like she doesn't have another pair.                   She misses, though. The trash can is to the left. That was a person.                                                                                                                                               Oops.