#paramatar

“What this has to do with you is that I’m asking you out.” She stops herself from laughing, was she not being straightforward enough? To be fair to him, most often she would say things like that with a sort of sarcastic note, catching most off guard when she was sincere. Perhaps this was one of those times. She stops walking, gently pulling on his arm so he might do the same and so as to directing him towards a bench so that they can sit down and talk. It’s something to do with this botanical conservatory, the ambient is just conducive enough for her emotions to actually flow freely. Maybe it’s the fresh air, or the abundance of life that has catalyzed her her to take this leap - or maybe it’s his presence, calming and giving her a solid struture for her to cling on to. She fidgets for a moment, hr fingernails digging into the soft skin of her palm as it forms a fist, as if she’s preparing for war, for a defense in case anything goes south.  “You know once this whole set-up is done and we’ve got the money. It might be good, might be worth exploring...if you’re up for it.” If you’re up for it ....it’s such a loaded comment. Is he up to waiting when work drags her away? Is he ready to give chase to her - the ever fluctuating specter in red? 

It’s one thing to know what he does when she is not around - it’s another to actually see it in person. While Carmen isn’t particularly the squeamish type (she’s seen her fair amount of blood and other assorted injuries in her day), this manages to completely catch her off-guard. It’s the FIRST time she sees him like this. Whereas she is normally detached, here she finds herself enveloped in a blanket of uncertainty and FEAR??? It is not a fear for her, but for him as she stands there frozen, wondering if the blood on his hands is his or another's.  Her eyes try to discern the origin- if it is indeed coming from him. Yet, the crimson hues of the blood on his clothing and hands appear to be a language that even she cannot hope to comprehend. Total comprehension is lost in futile translation. Before she can even fully comprehend what is happening, she instinctively goes to him. common sense might have been to r u n when you see someone with blood ... Instead, her hands firmly grip the side of his face, not even remotely caring if her own hands become stained RED in the process. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” There’s panic mixed in her voice, audible enough, her tone a tad bit higher than usual. It was then that Carmen felt her own blood pounding through her own veins. She thinks to speak again, but the words die with each worried breath. She thinks to tell him that sometimes she does not understand how he can lend himself to all of this... but verily, this is the road they have chosen to walk on. 

[Z🗡️]: I mean...it’s not bad? [Z🗡️]: what is this for? is this a new disguise? [Z🗡️]: Do you need me to come?...are you okay???

       "i’m so tired of the black-eyed-peas. it's rock and roll for people who don't like rock and roll, it's rap for people who don't like rap, it's pop for people who don't like pop. there's something about an underdog that really inspires the unexceptional."