Grapes to Honey
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| xxx | Despite the slowly-easing tension, Lottie's annoyance remained like an icy spike in her side. She found that as her exhaustion began to creep back in, so did her short-temper. A trait of her mother, no doubt, one she hadn't been able to shake despite the distance. The best she could do was gnaw at her lip and hold back any biting comments that threatened to bubble up. The pathetic attempt at juggling from Avis had her drawing her gaze back over, and for a moment her tired eyes were entranced by the constant wonky motions the other girl ran through. The sound of plastic crinkling filled the hallway, and all of a sudden Lottie's thoughts were drowned out. She narrowed her eyes then, sitting back up and folding her hands between her legs. "Heart-to-heart?" Lottie repeated slowly, brows knitting together in thorough confusion. "Is that what this is?" As soon as she said it, it made sense. Yes, obviously, two wandering students of similar years stumbling upon each other on a restless night was typically a lament waiting to happen. Lottie wasn't sure what to do with that. Was there an ideal time to finally begin the downpour of emotion? Would it really be genuine, even if she was now distracted from the bad thoughts? If she got the bad thoughts every time she was alone, and they kept dispersing as soon as she was in another's company, then how could she truly, genuinely admit to them? This stream of thoughts only worked to frustrate her further, and her teeth clamped down on her lip once more. She stared at Avis's poor attempts at juggling and tried to wrap her brain around the situation at hand. "What am I meant to say?" | xxx |
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Grapes to Honey |  |
| ✦"You better start walking. Love takes miles."✦ STA 8 │ EVA 8 │ STR 6 │ WIS 6 │ ARC 6 │ ACC 7 |
Grapes to Honey
Avis held back a smirk as she peaked at Charlotte out of the corner of her eye, watching the girl's eyes following the off-kilter path of her caramels. One she felt Charlotte was sufficiently entranced by her failure to succeed, she gracefully chucked her caramels back into her bag, choosing not to eat yet more sugar this late at night.
Sugar high was a lie, sure, but was it really? Maybe it was the dopamine from the sugar, but Avis was certain that she was more jittery than normal. Or maybe it was the fact that she was an over tired child that should have been in bed.
"Is that what this is?" Avis stared at the girl, mimicking her confused look. "Uh...yeah. Obviously. What else was it supposed to be? A person crying automatically classified a conversation as a heart to heart.
Charlotte bit her lip seemingly out of frustration, and Avis fell silent for a moment, looking at her at with some semblance of understanding in her eyes. She wasn't here to to cause an explosion or just be irritating, after all. but in her experience, nothing was ever found by being loose.
One of the greatest strengths of the human population was hiding their struggles from everyone else, which only served to add fuel to the fire. And the whole pity routine that most people did didn't exactly help. At that point, you were basically encouraging them to lie to get the conversation over with.
No. If you wanted to have a genuine conversation, you needed to find their shield, and drag yourself through it, while simultaneously proving that you are trustworthy enough to not shut down to, and caring enough to not seem a burden.
"What am I meant to say?" Avis shrugged, her voice noticeably softer than before. "I couldn't know. I'm not you. If I knew what your problems were, this conversation would be a heckuvalot shorter."
@charlotte winfield
Sugar high was a lie, sure, but was it really? Maybe it was the dopamine from the sugar, but Avis was certain that she was more jittery than normal. Or maybe it was the fact that she was an over tired child that should have been in bed.
"Is that what this is?" Avis stared at the girl, mimicking her confused look. "Uh...yeah. Obviously. What else was it supposed to be? A person crying automatically classified a conversation as a heart to heart.
Charlotte bit her lip seemingly out of frustration, and Avis fell silent for a moment, looking at her at with some semblance of understanding in her eyes. She wasn't here to to cause an explosion or just be irritating, after all. but in her experience, nothing was ever found by being loose.
One of the greatest strengths of the human population was hiding their struggles from everyone else, which only served to add fuel to the fire. And the whole pity routine that most people did didn't exactly help. At that point, you were basically encouraging them to lie to get the conversation over with.
No. If you wanted to have a genuine conversation, you needed to find their shield, and drag yourself through it, while simultaneously proving that you are trustworthy enough to not shut down to, and caring enough to not seem a burden.
"What am I meant to say?" Avis shrugged, her voice noticeably softer than before. "I couldn't know. I'm not you. If I knew what your problems were, this conversation would be a heckuvalot shorter."
@charlotte winfield
Avis Marlong | ”She won't cry or beg for help...she'll isolate from the world and fight her own demons so that nobody can throw it in her face later.” |
"The odds of hitting your target increase dramatically when you aim at it." Benji Marecos |
Grapes to Honey
| |
| xxx | Lottie felt her chest grow tight. It wasn't from embarrassment or annoyance, but rather fear. This was the part where things got serious. The desire to get up leave grew strong, but that wouldn't help anything and she knew it. Things were changing, and she couldn't adjust with that change if she kept pretending it wasn't happening. It was the most profound thought she had had in weeks, or at least the most helpful. The rush of annoyance and surprise and confusion that had managed to temporarily flush out all those nasty feelings of lonesomeness and worry finally washed out. Every thought she had been thinking before popped back into her mind, bubbles flowing from a wand and surrounding her. She exhaled slowly, raking her hands through her hair and swirling the curls around the crook between her thumb and index finger. A lump settled in her throat, aching. Words felt impossible like this. Everything felt impossible. It was possible that the world started and ended at this very moment, sitting on the cold cobblestone floor of the corridor in a foreign school, a million miles from home, from her family, from Anadil. And then Avis spoke, and it suddenly occurred to Lottie that she was not alone. She glanced up through her lashes, a truly pathetic expression painted across her pale face. She opened her mouth, searching for the words, before closing it again. Nothing made sense to her muddled mind, every thought pulsing and contorting until it took a stronger, more fearsome new shape. She inhaled through her nose, then exhaled shakily. "I feel so alone," she finally mustered out, voice hitching midway through that final, dreadful word. Alone. Her face heated with a mixture of embarrassment and misery. She felt foolish. It was all just so foolish. | xxx |
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Grapes to Honey | |
| ✦"You better start walking. Love takes miles."✦ STA 8 │ EVA 8 │ STR 6 │ WIS 6 │ ARC 6 │ ACC 7 |
Grapes to Honey
Avis exhaled slowly, wrapping her cloak tighter around her as she fought back a yawn. She loved doing this, playing this game of 4D chess with another person, but the one downside was it sent her adrenaline coursing through her veins and ripping at her heart. It was said a person burned 400 to 800 calories a day via thinking, and it was Avis; opinion that she could double, trying to stay a few steps ahead of whatever defense mechanisms that were put up.
Charlotte combed her fingers through her hair and Avis noted the similarity, an action that she would 100% also do in this position. Actually, that wasn't true, she wouldn't get quite to that point. The great part of playing so much offense in this game was that Avis was really good at the defense. For better or for worse.
As Charlotte exhaled a soft, shaky breathe, Avis grinned. Gotcha. The very best of sentences always came after hesitant, defensive breaths. "I feel so alone," The words finally slithered out, finally breaking past her subconscious that was fighting to keep it in.
Avis simply nodded, though she was leaping in her mind. The snowball was rolling. She waited a moment to allow Charlotte to mull through the admission on her own, before finally speaking. That was the point, after all. Not for the girl to admit anything to Avis. but to admit them to herself so it could finally be addresses, finally change. Avis saw herself as little instructions voice, simply there to work it out. "How come?"
@Charlotte Winfield
Charlotte combed her fingers through her hair and Avis noted the similarity, an action that she would 100% also do in this position. Actually, that wasn't true, she wouldn't get quite to that point. The great part of playing so much offense in this game was that Avis was really good at the defense. For better or for worse.
As Charlotte exhaled a soft, shaky breathe, Avis grinned. Gotcha. The very best of sentences always came after hesitant, defensive breaths. "I feel so alone," The words finally slithered out, finally breaking past her subconscious that was fighting to keep it in.
Avis simply nodded, though she was leaping in her mind. The snowball was rolling. She waited a moment to allow Charlotte to mull through the admission on her own, before finally speaking. That was the point, after all. Not for the girl to admit anything to Avis. but to admit them to herself so it could finally be addresses, finally change. Avis saw herself as little instructions voice, simply there to work it out. "How come?"
@Charlotte Winfield
Avis Marlong | ”She won't cry or beg for help...she'll isolate from the world and fight her own demons so that nobody can throw it in her face later.” |
"The odds of hitting your target increase dramatically when you aim at it." Benji Marecos |
Grapes to Honey
| |
| xxx | Lottie didn't have the time to worry about the peculiarity of her situation, as her mind had started whirring, and her mouth was following quickly suit. "Because... because she's gone." The words cracked as they left her throat, meeting the walls and echoing right back to her ears. She hated being able to hear her own voice, hated how weak it made her feel. But she just couldn't stop. "My sister is gone, and sure I'll get to see her over the break, but it's only to meet my brother's stupid mud-" Lottie brought her hand to her mouth and bit down on her finger. Ice ran through her veins, and the guilt came back in full force. But this time it was for another reason. There was a heaviness to hatred that was extremely undesirable to Lottie, if predominantly because it reminded her so greatly of her mother's vitriol. Hoarse shouts and the sound of glass breaking on marble. And her sister's, equal in force and stronger in hatred. "Muggle. His muggle fiancé." Another strained breath drew from her mouth and disappeared into the air. She needed to get a hold of herself, and she knew it. It was odd, but Avis's position felt strangely calculated. Lottie made a point of keeping her gaze drawn to the floor, but there was a thoroughness to Avis's posture, a completeness to her words, that struck Lottie as methodical. It came as... somewhat of a comfort. Knowing that at least someone had their mind in one piece. "He says he loves her. Which is fine, of course it's fine, but..." Lottie shrugged, leaning forward and slowly scrubbing her hands together, thumb falling over forefinger and forefinger falling over middle, and so on and so forth. "I've spent all this time drowning in guilt over something as simple as reading muggle literature, and here he is putting a ring on an actual, real-life muggle. I guess it just feels like..." It was all for nothing. But Lottie didn't say that much, in fact she said nothing more. The realization that she had just spilled her guts out to a total stranger was at once troubling and thrilling. Her face felt warm again, and all she could think to do was plant it right back in her palms. That was when the tears started. One, then another, then a hesitant third, and then a whole stream of them. They wetted her hands and made her eyes burn. With a quiet sniffle, she dragged the edge of her sleeve around her pink cheeks. "We never got to go to Italy." Lottie's voice was so quiet, it could break on a stray draft. She finally looked up at Avis, lashes wet and dark, brows drawn up pathetically. "She said she would take me to Italy before she left. She promised." | xxx |
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Grapes to Honey | |
| ✦"You better start walking. Love takes miles."✦ STA 8 │ EVA 8 │ STR 6 │ WIS 6 │ ARC 6 │ ACC 7 |
Grapes to Honey
As Charlotte began talking, Avis took each bit of information, sorting it in her mind and placing it onto a blank canvas in her mind, creating a sort of dot to dot that, once completed, would give a proper, real image of the girl slumped next to her.
"My sister is gone, and sure I'll get to see her over the break, but it's only to meet my brother's stupid mud-" Avis ignored Charlotte's abrupt pause and her frustrated biting of her fingers. That was only a problem right now if they started bleeding. Instead, she chose to spend that moment dissecting the words.
Her sister was gone - nope, just like, somewhere else? On vacation?
Mudblood. Charlotte didn't need to finish the sentence. It was obvious how the sentence was going to end. Something flashed across Avis' face before she smothered it out. She was supposed to be offended. She was muggleborn, and an insult to a muggleborn was an insult to them all.
But Avis' job wasn't to be the jury, judge, or executioner. Her job was to be an unbiased wall. And sometimes, a pair of pliers.
"Muggle. His muggle fiancé." Avis caught the strain within the words, and she had to respect the effort it must have taken to say. Charlotte certainly didn't like this fiance.
"I've spent all this time drowning in guilt over something as simple as reading muggle literature, and here he is putting a ring on an actual, real-life muggle. I guess it just feels like..." Avis mouth formed a soft O as she realized the irony of this all. This girl was crying because her brother was marrying a muggle. And she was crying to a muggleborn.
Wall. Pliers.
The very best of sentences always came after hesitant, defensive breaths, but also the ones that weren't finished. The ones that drifted off, too difficult to complete. Completing one of those was always a milestone. And so Avis took a breath, pulled her face back to stoic, and prodded softly. "It feels like...?"
Then the tears started coming. Ah, frick. This was the part Avis was bad at. She sat there awkwardly, relieved when the girl started talking again. "She said she would take me to Italy before she left. She promised." And oh how Avis wanted to ask where her sister had gone. But that wasn't relevant. Charlotte already knew the answer to that question. Avis was here to ask the questions that Charlotte didn't know yet. "And why can't you go to Italy?"
@Charlotte Winfield
"My sister is gone, and sure I'll get to see her over the break, but it's only to meet my brother's stupid mud-" Avis ignored Charlotte's abrupt pause and her frustrated biting of her fingers. That was only a problem right now if they started bleeding. Instead, she chose to spend that moment dissecting the words.
Her sister was gone - nope, just like, somewhere else? On vacation?
Mudblood. Charlotte didn't need to finish the sentence. It was obvious how the sentence was going to end. Something flashed across Avis' face before she smothered it out. She was supposed to be offended. She was muggleborn, and an insult to a muggleborn was an insult to them all.
But Avis' job wasn't to be the jury, judge, or executioner. Her job was to be an unbiased wall. And sometimes, a pair of pliers.
"Muggle. His muggle fiancé." Avis caught the strain within the words, and she had to respect the effort it must have taken to say. Charlotte certainly didn't like this fiance.
"I've spent all this time drowning in guilt over something as simple as reading muggle literature, and here he is putting a ring on an actual, real-life muggle. I guess it just feels like..." Avis mouth formed a soft O as she realized the irony of this all. This girl was crying because her brother was marrying a muggle. And she was crying to a muggleborn.
Wall. Pliers.
The very best of sentences always came after hesitant, defensive breaths, but also the ones that weren't finished. The ones that drifted off, too difficult to complete. Completing one of those was always a milestone. And so Avis took a breath, pulled her face back to stoic, and prodded softly. "It feels like...?"
Then the tears started coming. Ah, frick. This was the part Avis was bad at. She sat there awkwardly, relieved when the girl started talking again. "She said she would take me to Italy before she left. She promised." And oh how Avis wanted to ask where her sister had gone. But that wasn't relevant. Charlotte already knew the answer to that question. Avis was here to ask the questions that Charlotte didn't know yet. "And why can't you go to Italy?"
@Charlotte Winfield
Avis Marlong | ”She won't cry or beg for help...she'll isolate from the world and fight her own demons so that nobody can throw it in her face later.” |
"The odds of hitting your target increase dramatically when you aim at it." Benji Marecos |
Grapes to Honey
| |
| xxx | Lottie wasn't quite sure when her brain had jumped from worry to pure misery, but at that moment she felt positively helpless. The high stone walls of the corridor had never felt so thick, trapping all her fears inside and forcing them to play over and over again in her mind. Perhaps it would have been better if she had just stayed in her dorm, waiting until exhaustion finally took over and swept her away into a dreamless slumber. But of course, she hated sleep. Bad things happened when one slept. Bags were packed, words spoken, doors slammed. Then again, there was something strangely liberating about allowing all these thoughts to rematerialize into words. For everything to escape her mouth in semi-adequate detail, it was like finally letting them go. It didn't take away her worries, only provided them with new ground. And perhaps, just maybe, she could trust that Avis was sturdy enough ground to allow her thoughts to rest on. Lottie swiped a hand over her slick cheeks, sitting up a bit. There was no point in holding back now, not after she'd already revealed so much. "It feels like I've been fearing a ghost. Like all that effort I put in, all that time... it was pointless." She felt her jaw begin to quiver, and had to fight off another round of quiet sobs. God, this really was pathetic. "Was it really that easy? Why would I keep my passions secret for all these years if it was for nothing?" Her mind drew her back to restless nights, posted up in the Winfield's large library and hiding under an oversized blanket while reading through a big book of old muggle fairytales. The guilt that would always come the next morning was dreadful, sickening in all the ways it shouldn't have been. She wouldn't be able to hold her mother's gaze, and would have to live with that anxiety for days. She knows, oh goodness, she has to know... and now, it seemed she was the only Winfield child who still believed the ghost stories their mother told them about muggle savagery. She felt like a fool. A real and true fool. But then there was Anadil. Forsaken, beautiful, rebellious Anadil, who had never given half a thought to their mother's opinion. Lottie wasn't sure if she wanted to be like her eldest sister, though her life did have a distant charm to it. Perhaps she just wanted Anadil to be back. Perhaps she just missed feeling like she wasn't the only one drifting through the murky waters of their mother's rule. "Because, she..." Lottie trailed off into a soft sniffle, feeling another warm tear trail down her cheek and drip into her lap. With a great sigh, she shrugged her shoulders. "She was meant to go with me. But now she's probably already been. She's been everywhere already, without me." The rush of it all had finally washed over, and now Lottie was simply left with the soft bite of embarrassment and exhaustion. She needed a tissue, and she needed her bed. She glanced back up at Avis, huffing out a humorless, short laugh. "You probably don't need to be hearing all this. It's just noise." | xxx |
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Grapes to Honey | |
| ✦"You better start walking. Love takes miles."✦ STA 8 │ EVA 8 │ STR 6 │ WIS 6 │ ARC 6 │ ACC 7 |
Grapes to Honey
"It feels like I've been fearing a ghost. Like all that effort I put in, all that time... it was pointless." Avis rolled her eyes inside of her head. (It would do no good for Charlotte to realize how dumb Avis thought this was), but these dots were not connecting.
She understood. She really did. That was a completely vague statement and Avis had no idea what was going on, but that was to be expected. This was new, this whole "telling people your problems" thing, and some grace had to be given. After all, you couldn't just shove a bird out of a nest and expect them to fly...oh wait. You could. If you just pushed them enough.
"Was it really that easy? Why would I keep my passions secret for all these years if it was for nothing?"
Avis tilted her head. "Was what that easy? What passions? Why was it worth nothing?
These people didn't know how to sort out their own thoughts. That was fine, Avis would sort them out for them. Long as they didn't shut down. That tended to happen as well.
"She was meant to go with me. But now she's probably already been. She's been everywhere already, without me." Avis paused, waiting for Charlotte to sit with her thoughts before dissecting them. "Probably? Why are you basing your sadness on a probably? Do you even know any of that?"
"You probably don't need to be hearing all this. It's just noise." Nodding her agreement slightly, Avis snickered. "You're right. Talking is just noise. Happiness is just dopamine. Enjoying life is quantifiably meaningless. And yet your enjoyment of life is worth something intangible. Your happiness is defined by more that whatever chemical it is. And therefore talking must be worthwhile, as irrelevant and noisy it may be. And no, I don't need to. But I choose to. That guilt you are trying to use as an excuse isn't going to work. You can't base assumptions on probablys. So. What are you putting so much effort into that isn't working?" She raised an eyebrow, crossing her legs and folding her arms. She wasn't going anywhere.
@Charlotte Winfield
She understood. She really did. That was a completely vague statement and Avis had no idea what was going on, but that was to be expected. This was new, this whole "telling people your problems" thing, and some grace had to be given. After all, you couldn't just shove a bird out of a nest and expect them to fly...oh wait. You could. If you just pushed them enough.
"Was it really that easy? Why would I keep my passions secret for all these years if it was for nothing?"
Avis tilted her head. "Was what that easy? What passions? Why was it worth nothing?
These people didn't know how to sort out their own thoughts. That was fine, Avis would sort them out for them. Long as they didn't shut down. That tended to happen as well.
"She was meant to go with me. But now she's probably already been. She's been everywhere already, without me." Avis paused, waiting for Charlotte to sit with her thoughts before dissecting them. "Probably? Why are you basing your sadness on a probably? Do you even know any of that?"
"You probably don't need to be hearing all this. It's just noise." Nodding her agreement slightly, Avis snickered. "You're right. Talking is just noise. Happiness is just dopamine. Enjoying life is quantifiably meaningless. And yet your enjoyment of life is worth something intangible. Your happiness is defined by more that whatever chemical it is. And therefore talking must be worthwhile, as irrelevant and noisy it may be. And no, I don't need to. But I choose to. That guilt you are trying to use as an excuse isn't going to work. You can't base assumptions on probablys. So. What are you putting so much effort into that isn't working?" She raised an eyebrow, crossing her legs and folding her arms. She wasn't going anywhere.
@Charlotte Winfield
Avis Marlong | ”She won't cry or beg for help...she'll isolate from the world and fight her own demons so that nobody can throw it in her face later.” |
"The odds of hitting your target increase dramatically when you aim at it." Benji Marecos |
Grapes to Honey
| |
| xxx | The corridor was very cold. Even under the weight of her jacket, Lottie could feel shivers dancing on her spine and making her shake like a madman. A part of her missed her bed, though she did not want to sleep. She never wanted to sleep. With distant clarity, she could imagine herself the next morning, dark circles painting her soft skin an ugly shade. Though she could never be ugly, not really. Only when she was angry. It was in her genes. Despite the chill of the stone, her face was warm and slick with tears. She didn't know how to respond to Avis's questions, so she just shook her head with a soft, pathetic sound. Dignity was no longer something she had any remaining power over. She was lost in the sea of her mind, the endless slopes of loose thoughts and ungrounded fears. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Everything was uncertain these days. But how did she cope with that? What was she meant to do about fears built on her own uncertainty? Stop having them? They sat like stones in her gut, heavy and unmoving. "I don't know anything. I feel like everything I've been building up in my head over the course of my life is crumbling down around me." It was dramatic, and Lottie knew that, but it felt nice at least giving ground to these thoughts. They felt a lot smaller when put into words. Lottie felt Avis's words in her bones. They cut deep and true, all the things she had read in books and thought of their beauty as the quality of unbound intelligence. It was odd to hear those kinds of words, striking poeticism with such commonplace simplicity, coming from anyone out of fiction. The last of her tears trickled down her cheek and fell to her lap. The ache in her heart softened to a gentle sting. "The secrets. And lies. Hiding, pretending, living life like I'm walking through a landmine. It's my mother. She hates anything muggle. And, gosh, I love everything muggle. Anadil was... she didn't like our mother's rules. And my mother didn't like her defiance." Lottie stared at her clasped hands, white knuckles pulsing with the inconsistent rush of faded red. "I'm scared, I guess. That if she finds out, I'll be just like Anadil." | xxx |
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Grapes to Honey | |
| ✦"You better start walking. Love takes miles."✦ STA 8 │ EVA 8 │ STR 6 │ WIS 6 │ ARC 6 │ ACC 7 |
Grapes to Honey
As Charlotte shivered, Avis paused a moment to study the shivers, momentarily debating whether they were from the cold, or the anxiety. After a moment, she concluded that it was the cold, due to the the disconnect between the girl's breaths and her shivering. Pulling her cloak out of her satchel, Avis wrapped it around Charlotte's shoulders, a motion of pure efficiency and logic. After all, she couldn't be responsible for hypothermia. She had a feeling that fell under the "poor prefect" category.
"I don't know anything. I feel like everything I've been building up in my head over the course of my life is crumbling down around me." "Or," Avis offered another alternative. "You're learning new things that give you more questions. Is this a good thing, that your life is crumbling?"
It was strange, Avis thought, that she was so much better at giving advice to other people than to herself. She could give it to herself, sure, but she rarely actually listened. Something about stubbornness, blah blah blah. Something about fear. Something about listening to others that made you finally think about your own flaws, your own failures.
But Avis would mull over that tomorrow during class as she fought to stay awake. Now was not her time. Now was Charlotte's time.
Now the pieces were finally beginning to connect, snapping into place with satisfying clicks that Avis filled in in her mind as she traced the paths. As far as Avis could tell, Charlotte was raised in a muggle-discrimminate house, and she was straying from that. "Would that be such a bad thing? Being like her?"
Yes, Avis' questions were short. Yes, they were curt. That was on purpose. This wasn't an interrogation, this was her guiding Charlotte to find the conclusions on her own, to give her both independence and interdependence in the middle of this dark hallway in the middle of the night.
@Charlotte Winfield
"I don't know anything. I feel like everything I've been building up in my head over the course of my life is crumbling down around me." "Or," Avis offered another alternative. "You're learning new things that give you more questions. Is this a good thing, that your life is crumbling?"
It was strange, Avis thought, that she was so much better at giving advice to other people than to herself. She could give it to herself, sure, but she rarely actually listened. Something about stubbornness, blah blah blah. Something about fear. Something about listening to others that made you finally think about your own flaws, your own failures.
But Avis would mull over that tomorrow during class as she fought to stay awake. Now was not her time. Now was Charlotte's time.
Now the pieces were finally beginning to connect, snapping into place with satisfying clicks that Avis filled in in her mind as she traced the paths. As far as Avis could tell, Charlotte was raised in a muggle-discrimminate house, and she was straying from that. "Would that be such a bad thing? Being like her?"
Yes, Avis' questions were short. Yes, they were curt. That was on purpose. This wasn't an interrogation, this was her guiding Charlotte to find the conclusions on her own, to give her both independence and interdependence in the middle of this dark hallway in the middle of the night.
@Charlotte Winfield
Avis Marlong | ”She won't cry or beg for help...she'll isolate from the world and fight her own demons so that nobody can throw it in her face later.” |
"The odds of hitting your target increase dramatically when you aim at it." Benji Marecos |