[He'd asked her a question, but she knows avoidance when she sees it. Rosalind says it softly, more gentle than she's ever been in front of him, her eyes even flickering down, as if he might need a moment of privacy.
God. She can't imagine having Robert and losing him. That would be worse, she thinks, than not having him from the start. The loss, the grief, the terror and the loneliness . . . god. She'd be a wreck. She'd have a breakdown, she thinks, and for a moment wonders if it's better Robert hasn't appeared.
But. She also knows what she'd prefer in such a situation: to focus on something else. To ignore her grief until it went away.]
Ah . . . I've revealed my newfound status to a few people so far.
[Her voice is more brisk, efficient.]
Adrian took it well. So did Diva. But, ah . . . I told Jonathan Reid.
[. . .]
I did not expect him to take it well. I would have been suspicious if he had, truthfully. But nor did I expect him to, ah . . . to threaten to stake me if I strayed out of line, according to his guidelines.
[She says it stiffly. Truth be told, the longer she thinks on that, the more it terrifies her, and maybe he can see some of that in the sudden lines of tension in her body, or the way she glares at the floor.]
no subject
[He'd asked her a question, but she knows avoidance when she sees it. Rosalind says it softly, more gentle than she's ever been in front of him, her eyes even flickering down, as if he might need a moment of privacy.
God. She can't imagine having Robert and losing him. That would be worse, she thinks, than not having him from the start. The loss, the grief, the terror and the loneliness . . . god. She'd be a wreck. She'd have a breakdown, she thinks, and for a moment wonders if it's better Robert hasn't appeared.
But. She also knows what she'd prefer in such a situation: to focus on something else. To ignore her grief until it went away.]
Ah . . . I've revealed my newfound status to a few people so far.
[Her voice is more brisk, efficient.]
Adrian took it well. So did Diva. But, ah . . . I told Jonathan Reid.
[. . .]
I did not expect him to take it well. I would have been suspicious if he had, truthfully. But nor did I expect him to, ah . . . to threaten to stake me if I strayed out of line, according to his guidelines.
[She says it stiffly. Truth be told, the longer she thinks on that, the more it terrifies her, and maybe he can see some of that in the sudden lines of tension in her body, or the way she glares at the floor.]