Cordelia
Cordelia sighs heavily, wiping at her eyes before lifting her cup of tea back to her lips, taking a sip in an attempt to settle her nerves. It all makes sense and she hates him for it. If only because she doesn't know how to process what she's feeling. The Shrike focuses her gaze on him, remaining quiet for a long moment as she mulls over his words, trying to figure out how to respond. "I know..." She finally whispers, swallowing thickly as her fingers continue to flex on the handle of her cup.
"He hasn't wanted to talk to me. Not that I've tried talking to him." Her cheeks flush, a stray hand coming up to run through her mess of hair, "What should I do, Deimos?" Gods, she'd been so awful to him. Lashed out. Hit him. Blamed him for everything. How could he possibly forgive her for that too?
"He hasn't wanted to talk to me. Not that I've tried talking to him." Her cheeks flush, a stray hand coming up to run through her mess of hair, "What should I do, Deimos?" Gods, she'd been so awful to him. Lashed out. Hit him. Blamed him for everything. How could he possibly forgive her for that too?
Present all your pretty feelings
May they comfort you tonight
May they comfort you tonight
