#blaesus

"I DON'T WANT YOU TO SAY ANYTHING," at least not any words that she had to put in his mouth. "I didn't tell you for sympathy," she has enough of that for a lifetime. A never-ending list of people telling her how sorry they are, how unfair it all is, how she doesn't deserve this. Astoria tries her best not to let it get to her, they mean well and this new bitterness she finds invading her blood like a virus is so unlike her, but it's no easy thing to ignore.

"I told you because when it happens it's going to be hard on Daph," she knows this because if their places were reversed, Astoria would never recover from the grief of it. Her sister had been her best friend since the day she was born; her earliest memories of blonde hair and ever-watchful blue eyes, more attentive than her own mother had been. "She'll act tough because she always does, but she'll need somebody."

𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐖𝐃 𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐒 | 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚂: 𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 blaise said:  “ You're lucky I'm a private person.  ”

𝘼𝙧𝙢𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩, Daphne was two seconds away from stomping her foot. She wouldn't, of course. For that was childish. But if she happened to slightly huff and roll her eyes, then it was what it was. She couldn't stop herself. Not when Blaise had found out what she had been doing.

      ‘    If you weren't a private person, does that mean you would tattle on me? Your favorite person?     ’    Pouting her lips, she titled her head back so that she could catch his gaze. She didn't think he would. Not just because they were friends, but because they both knew what would happen if he told anyone in power that she was helping out the DA. And she truly believed he wouldn't want that on his conscious.

      ‘     This is important. Making sure that they survive, that we all survive? That is important.     ’    Knowing that someone else knew what she was doing spooked her, but she trusted Blaise. Trusted him more than most people.       ‘     Please don't tell anyone what I'm doing.     ’    

Aside from Tai and Senator Grell, the others are all various flavors of annoying.

the first thing she becomes aware of, upon waking, is the headache sitting just behind her eyes. not unfamiliar ; ginny’s been in her twenties for a while now, and been a professional athlete for almost as long. successful games are usually followed by incredibly successful nights out, and a headache like this is often evidence of that. the second thing she becomes aware of is the arm draped over her waist, the warmth at her back. again, not entirely unfamiliar. professional athlete, successful game -- night outs end like this, sometimes.

she considers trying to stay like this, until her partner wakes up. because she cannot, for the life of her, remember what they look like. or their name. she’s pretty certain it’s a man but that’s as much information as she has. but the headache and general next-morning discomfort are starting to settle in, so she forces her eyes open with a quiet groan. and she’s as careful as she can be, removing the arm, sitting up -- and she looks down and --

“   is  it  just  me  who  thinks  it  feels  bloody  awkward  in  here?     ‘cause  if  it’s  just  me  then  that’s. . . .    it’s  awkward,   right?   ”