[She lets him settle there: his head cradled in her lap, clawed fingers running slow, lazy circles along his scalp, the scuff of his fingertips keeping the slight pull of a smile just there at the edge of her jaw.
Nisha doesn't like quiet. Something about it makes her think too much, gives her an itch at the base of her neck that has her tugging at the trigger of her gun and hunting for something-- anything-- to kill.
Brings back old memories that are better off forgotten.
But this? This works. And she's not about to question that. Never has.] Keep talking, hotshot - someone'll buy into it someday.
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Nisha doesn't like quiet. Something about it makes her think too much, gives her an itch at the base of her neck that has her tugging at the trigger of her gun and hunting for something-- anything-- to kill.
Brings back old memories that are better off forgotten.
But this? This works. And she's not about to question that. Never has.] Keep talking, hotshot - someone'll buy into it someday.