(no subject)

[shelley_winters]

Heat from the water soaks through her skin - real heat, not the strange almost burning of being healed. Shelley lies back reluctantly as he puts her gently down in the water, white foam thankfully covering the surface. One small hand grips the side tensely as the other splashes a moment, before bringing out the ridiculous scrap of gold-shimmering gauze, now sodden with water, and throwing it as hard as she can onto the floor.

It takes a shaky sigh as she turns her head away again before she glances back at Ishamael, noticing him more clearly than before. And more to the point, the fact that he is still here.

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[shelley_winters]

She turns completely white at the reminder of... of everything, hot tears stinging her eyes. Silently, Shelley turns around, and walks as quickly as she can the other way, shaking still from the cold, but with the growing heat of anger. She hates him, hates him, hates him.

She feels sick.

[always-a-liar.livejournal.com]

Ishamael did not turn around. As she slipped off, the sound of footsteps did not accompany her.

If Shelley had turned around, then she would have found the corridor empty.