@legendarythief liked for a starter~
external partnerships are unheard of, but there she stands, beneath the tattered awning of a florist’s shop, for the rendezvous. she’s not one for camaraderie, prefers the solace of solitude, but alone, she is only capable of so much. some men are elusive, even the ones who beg to be seen.
rain drips onto the toe of her shoe, slides onto the pavement, and she folds her arms. alone, she acts on impulse, desire, comes to doubt and regret decision until she aches. she longs to contain herself, presses inward as though to compress. there is pain in futility, in weakness. reliance is a sin she hates to commit.
desperation leads to disaster. she chastises herself for seeking help in this hunt, begins to curse the scent of pollen. what she feels isn’t anger but something more youthful, a foolishness that grinds her teeth. one hand falls onto the stem of a rose, and she closes a fist around it, as though it were a throat capable of shedding blood.
then, footsteps, a soft step. she sighs in relief but disguises it as irritation.
she doesn’t bother checking the time, deciding it doesn’t matter. ‘you’re late,’ she says, but knows it isn’t true. she’s grown impatient in her isolation. ‘if we’re to work together, i have to be able to trust you. you know that.’
