shelley_winters | (no subject)

(no subject)

And Shelley doesn't know where to go, or what to do.

He went into the house after storming off like he has the right to be angry after-

After he kissed her.

Oh God. Okay. Nothing he hadn't done before, if more... scary.

She sighs, dropping her forehead down onto drawn-up knees. She has moved from where they were before but remained in the garden. Ishamael went inside. Staying away seemed the thing to do.

She wants to go home. But it's only been a few days since she came back, and with him angry...

She doesn't know what to do.

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She shoots him a look.

"Does it matter?"

Impotent rage is a state of being, and most definitely isn't going away.

A raised eyebrow from Ishamael.

"Of course it does."

What a silly question.

"How, exactly?"

She looks back angrily. She can do absolutely nothing to hurt him - nothing that will make any difference - and he controls her ability to get home. It makes no difference whatsoever.

An indifferent shrug, before a piercing look. He knew his way around her mind.

"It changes a great deal of things. Surely, you do not think that I am not receptive to your moods?"

Shelley glares wordlessly.

She does not think, evidently.

A raised eyebrow, and a reproachful look.

"...Think what you will."

"I will."

Unless he decides to take that away from her as well. And she won't put it past him.

She looks down at the grass.

Oh, and how he likes her free will. Infuriating as it is. Thinking back to a book he read once, it must be how God felt. Leaning forward, he kissed her on the cheek gently.

"That is the way I prefer it, even misguided."

Shelley pulls back angrily.

"I told you not to touch me!"

She gets up crossly, lifting Abdiel with her.

A light laugh from Ishamael as he too rose to his feet.

"Now, do you want some breakfast?"

A glance down at the kitten.

"Or does he, for that matter?"

Shelley is about to say no, when he mentions Abdiel. Of course he needs feeding. Even if she's not, he always is. He's a baby.

"...Okay."

Nodding firmly, Ishamael gestured back towards the house across the sunlit gardens.

"I will see what the chefs can provide."

"Okay," she says again.

Nodding quietly, she follows, cradling the kitten almost defensively.

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