eldorne_girl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
eldorne_girl) wrote2006-02-14 11:09 pm
eldorne_girl) wrote2006-02-14 11:09 pm
(no subject)
[George carries her up, up the stairs, up to his room, all the while cradling her like she was something precious, something fragile...
Something broken.]
[the door is shut, but not locked (a good thing, always a good thing, locks mean you can't get out can't escape...) and when the lanky thief places her on the bed, Delia just curls up into a huddle of thick hair and silken skirts; curls up, and doesn't stop crying.]
[not for a long time]
[but sooner or later she has to stop and, slowly, she does - the sobbing becomes weeping which becomes a sniff and a hiccup here and there. But the whole time, she doesn't move, just stares out with reddened green eyes not really seeing anything. At last, though, she draws in a shaky breath and whispers,]
I'm a wreck, aren't I?
Something broken.]
[the door is shut, but not locked (a good thing, always a good thing, locks mean you can't get out can't escape...) and when the lanky thief places her on the bed, Delia just curls up into a huddle of thick hair and silken skirts; curls up, and doesn't stop crying.]
[not for a long time]
[but sooner or later she has to stop and, slowly, she does - the sobbing becomes weeping which becomes a sniff and a hiccup here and there. But the whole time, she doesn't move, just stares out with reddened green eyes not really seeing anything. At last, though, she draws in a shaky breath and whispers,]
I'm a wreck, aren't I?
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