[ She wants to tell him that she's fine. She is fine. Or she will be. It's not that. It's — fuck.
It would be easy to blame the toxin. She could make the excuse that she wasn't herself — that it wasn't her that wanted to tear Rex's throat out — and he would let her get away with it. Maybe he'd even want to believe that. But some part of her thrived while the poison flooded her veins, opening her up to liberate the primal, blood-thirsty thing that's always lived there, deep down. That part of her loved the chase. The kill. And that part of her would have ripped him to shreds, and it wouldn't have mattered how much she loves him.
The tears that threaten at the corners of her eyes are self-loathing and angry. She doesn't want him to see it. To see her. Not like this. But she can't give voice yet to the lies that would be necessary to try and reassure him. So she just doesn't answer. Just stands there with her face covered and her shoulders faintly trembling. ]
no subject
It would be easy to blame the toxin. She could make the excuse that she wasn't herself — that it wasn't her that wanted to tear Rex's throat out — and he would let her get away with it. Maybe he'd even want to believe that. But some part of her thrived while the poison flooded her veins, opening her up to liberate the primal, blood-thirsty thing that's always lived there, deep down. That part of her loved the chase. The kill. And that part of her would have ripped him to shreds, and it wouldn't have mattered how much she loves him.
The tears that threaten at the corners of her eyes are self-loathing and angry. She doesn't want him to see it. To see her. Not like this. But she can't give voice yet to the lies that would be necessary to try and reassure him. So she just doesn't answer. Just stands there with her face covered and her shoulders faintly trembling. ]