I'm not leaving you to your ghost. You won't ever leave me to mine.
[ She's raw in ways she's never been, now. No makeup. No armor. No humor. The Lady and the soldier, the operative and the socialite all peeled away. Flayed off like so much bloody skin leaving only the nerves of her exposed. Hair loose and wild. Dressed in fatigues far too large for her that had at one time belonged to Monet. Her eyes are rimmed with red, her skin sallow and bruised. Most of the callsigns have seen her undressed at some point or another in their tenure. But now is the only time Alpha might have seen her naked.
There are no tricks left to her. No tools, no weapons, no games. For the first time in her life she's gone somewhere potentially dangerous without any weapons. Just her hands. While she's been twisted, formed and forged into a weapon a million times over to a point where she is never truly unarmed- but she has no head for it tonight. Not with Monet lingering behind her eyes, bidding her remove the weak link. They can find another Alpha. He can be replaced. Every last one of them can be replaced and her hands go tight in the air. Tense talons fit to carve and gouge with her bare nails and it is nothing she hasn't done a thousand times before-
But not to him. He's not theirs. He's hers. And she has the blood of enough of her friends dripping from her palms and her lips to be glut of it- sick of the tang and the bitterness in her throat and in her heart. ]
She had you. She used you. She left you. She chose you because you were convenient. You could have been any man from district one. You could have been anyone and she'd have loved, used, and wasted them just the same.
[ It's- frustrating. Difficult to cut the words from behind her teeth, to wrench them free like shards of bone from a break that needs setting. But she spits them out, raw and low as she stalks forward. ]
You aren't hers anymore. You aren't theirs. I saw you. I knew you. I chose you. For yourself. For your skills. For your temperament.
[ Word by word, step by step until she's before him, hand snapping out to curl tight in his shirt over his chest. She has no weapons now. Only her words. Only her heart. ]
Mine. I chose you, and you are mine. Not hers. You know me, and I am yours. Not his. They're dead. They're gone. They're lost and we were RIGHT to lose them. They held us and broke us and never deserved a shard of us. We are broken. But we fit. Like this- [ She tugs his hand up to her chest, over her heart. ] We fit.
Action
[ She's raw in ways she's never been, now. No makeup. No armor. No humor. The Lady and the soldier, the operative and the socialite all peeled away. Flayed off like so much bloody skin leaving only the nerves of her exposed. Hair loose and wild. Dressed in fatigues far too large for her that had at one time belonged to Monet. Her eyes are rimmed with red, her skin sallow and bruised. Most of the callsigns have seen her undressed at some point or another in their tenure. But now is the only time Alpha might have seen her naked.
There are no tricks left to her. No tools, no weapons, no games. For the first time in her life she's gone somewhere potentially dangerous without any weapons. Just her hands. While she's been twisted, formed and forged into a weapon a million times over to a point where she is never truly unarmed- but she has no head for it tonight. Not with Monet lingering behind her eyes, bidding her remove the weak link. They can find another Alpha. He can be replaced. Every last one of them can be replaced and her hands go tight in the air. Tense talons fit to carve and gouge with her bare nails and it is nothing she hasn't done a thousand times before-
But not to him. He's not theirs. He's hers. And she has the blood of enough of her friends dripping from her palms and her lips to be glut of it- sick of the tang and the bitterness in her throat and in her heart. ]
She had you. She used you. She left you. She chose you because you were convenient. You could have been any man from district one. You could have been anyone and she'd have loved, used, and wasted them just the same.
[ It's- frustrating. Difficult to cut the words from behind her teeth, to wrench them free like shards of bone from a break that needs setting. But she spits them out, raw and low as she stalks forward. ]
You aren't hers anymore. You aren't theirs. I saw you. I knew you. I chose you. For yourself. For your skills. For your temperament.
[ Word by word, step by step until she's before him, hand snapping out to curl tight in his shirt over his chest. She has no weapons now. Only her words. Only her heart. ]
Mine. I chose you, and you are mine. Not hers. You know me, and I am yours. Not his. They're dead. They're gone. They're lost and we were RIGHT to lose them. They held us and broke us and never deserved a shard of us. We are broken. But we fit. Like this- [ She tugs his hand up to her chest, over her heart. ] We fit.