she's a frightened dove, lost between walls, beating her wings bloody. an unfortunate setback. foreseen, perhaps, but optimism hadn't allowed room to plan appropriately. giddiness alive in his belly, victor rushed through a delicate moment and, now, feels his regret for that immensely. or that is the image he presents. behind a frown and his brows stitched to furrow. he huffs both for the effort it takes to bring himself down, down, down to her level, as well as the idea that he could not care about something, someone, so important. every road lead to grace ashcroft.
" of course i care. " not enough to loosen the tether that binds wrists to armrests. not enough to lose sight of what's important. mercy oft gave way to ignorance and he was many things, but a fool was not one of them. " i've spent my life looking for you grace. " two nods, the flick of a forked tongue, " there is nothing in this world i care about more than you and your well being. "
a white lie. a half-truth. he cared about what she could give him and the rest was circumstantial. her choice to make. whether his care remained hospitable, or.. if it was best to don a clinical overtone. clip his disappointment to his lapel like the badges of old. faced forward, there for the world to see. no.. he would spare her that indignity for now. stroke back the hair tousled into big, blue eyes, blinking rabbit quick and unsure where to look. " shhh.. you'll make yourself sick at this rate. " up here, my dear.
sedation would work.. it's an avenue to consider.
gideon rises and, looking down upon her from his full height, she's diminutive and shrinking. bites her own lips because she's too uncertain about the words behind them, he imagines. " you must have many questions. "
sat where all patients eventually sit, across from his desk, the walk to assume his own position is slow and purposeful. to drag long, cracked fingers across tabletop. move one folder to the side, another, and pluck his target from where it'd hidden itself away, below. in the corner, etched quick and bold, her name. tacked to the front, her face. inside is a detailed observation of the goings on that placed her where he'd wanted and, now, it all feels so.. obsolete. insignificant while the genuine article is feet away. not quite ripe, but he would wait for the picking to come into season.
gold is sparkling, a small peek behind a grin. teeth chatter, grind, then hold firm in a clench that makes his broadened elation look forced and momentarily unsound.
" please, ask away. " @riphalos had time to kill while they waited. a saccharine interlude while the third to their party made haste through the sky.
