[ is he sneering at her? the thought seems all-too plausible, despite its incongruency; after all, he thinks her incompetent, doesn't he? too happy to lay down and let things do with her as they will.
but—no, he's looking past. something else. with a surge of energy one can only attribute to adrenaline alone, Sprezzatura whips around, dragging her anguished gaze past the ruination of the books, the bookshelves, the sheaves of torn and stained paper, to...
no subject
but—no, he's looking past. something else. with a surge of energy one can only attribute to adrenaline alone, Sprezzatura whips around, dragging her anguished gaze past the ruination of the books, the bookshelves, the sheaves of torn and stained paper, to...
the fuck.
is that. ]
Mister Creel—?
[ the fuck is that!!!!! ]