Jag hated this place, this entire deal, and... himself. He could see that she'd cried. He should ask about that. Push her. She hadn't just read the cards. It had left a mark in her, and he should rile and rage and make the bastard pay.
But she'd made the deal, and he couldn't reverse it. Would he want to?
He hated himself, because after a beat, he simply took a flower. The stem broke neatly, and he looked down at it, this tiny mauve thing, so easily crushed. "Are you sure it's taking us home?"
He looked up into her eyes, his filled with a million questions. What was home, when they didn't come from the same place anyway? Was this goodbye? Up to six people, and he was the first she offered a flower to - of course it was all his fault. It was because he'd told her, because she knew how miserable he was here, because she was too fucking good and nice and here he was taking advant...
Em, his Em, wouldn't like him going on like that, so he took a deep, quiet breath, and forced himself to break the train of thought.
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But she'd made the deal, and he couldn't reverse it. Would he want to?
He hated himself, because after a beat, he simply took a flower. The stem broke neatly, and he looked down at it, this tiny mauve thing, so easily crushed. "Are you sure it's taking us home?"
He looked up into her eyes, his filled with a million questions. What was home, when they didn't come from the same place anyway? Was this goodbye? Up to six people, and he was the first she offered a flower to - of course it was all his fault. It was because he'd told her, because she knew how miserable he was here, because she was too fucking good and nice and here he was taking advant...
Em, his Em, wouldn't like him going on like that, so he took a deep, quiet breath, and forced himself to break the train of thought.