Thread: Knight in Rusty Armour {asylum and Alan23}

-she jumped when she heard him speak so close. Her eyes blinking open, scattering tears. A tentative glance in his direction gave him view of the crimson of her wetted cheeks. Lashes, heavy with moisture, framed reddened eyes. Even her nose was a little pink. She looked a mess, though not worse than when he'd found her in the basement. She sniffled and looked back down at her lap. Her usually straight shoulders slumped low. Her etiquette instructor would have a coronary, seeing her at the moment.- Yeah, sometimes too much. -she said softly. Her hands fidgeting against her legs.- Problem is, Nixon liked me at one time. Daddy squashed that and quickly but he really likes Nixon, so when he came after me again, Daddy only reprimanded him. Threatened his job if he didn't get that notion out of his head. He's treated me like that ever since. He's pissed because I told Daddy. -the cat was out of the bag already she supposed, though she still never verbally admitted to what Rak had heard. The tale was truth enough. Surprisingly, she didn't jerk away when his hand settled against her hair, though she really didn't have much room to move. There was a wall in front of her, another to her left and he sat to her right. She actually found the tender touch comforting. As she did his voice when she actually listened. Her head tilted again as he resumed speaking. Her eyes dropping momentarily to the cheese he picked up and then back up to his face. Her brows furrowing in a touch of confusion as she listened, until he reached the end and a small cb hmm left her throat. She did indeed get where he was going, she truly wasn't a complete airhead. She was a smarter cookie than most people gave her credit for really. Where she lacked in street smarts, she made up for in book smarts. A small spark lit in her sad eyes and she straightened a little, her eyes fully meeting his.- You like cats? -she asked curiously. Most people she knew, weren't very fond of them. Nixon himself was forever tormenting hers when she tried to rub up on the jerk. Daddy only tolerated Lola because Savannah had begged for the feline when she was younger and Daddy rarely denied her things like that. When he produced the handkerchief, a hand tentatively reached for it, until it pulled out of her grasp as he began wiping along her cheeks. She offered a weak smile and let him for a second before she gently reached up, fingers brushing against his hand as she sought to take the task upon herself if he relinquished his hold on the silk garment, if not, she simply left her hand there. As if needing to feel as if she were doing something, instead of solely depending on him to do it. After a quiet moment, his words settling on her ears, she nodded slowly. All she could do was hope it would work out. Her head lowered, her eyes settling on his painted arms, her jaw shifting slightly as she contemplated something. When she drew her gaze back up, her eyes flickering over his features slowly, she finally moved, drawing closer as she slid her arms around his midsection. Letting her cheek rest against his shoulder, her words muffled slightly against his shirt.- Thank you.