[ this feels no less harrowing than one of the Warden's killing trials. once inside, she does indeed sink all but to the floor, and listing her head back on the seat, allows herself a singular moment to blink the tears from her eyes.
nothing more. stiff upper lip, Vaux. bleary gaze on the ceiling; ragged exhale he hopefully cannot hear.
no immediate answer—better to not. this is not riding with one hand upon Sholmes' thigh, in perfect disguise. she can't act natural, and instead must act invisible. ]
no subject
nothing more. stiff upper lip, Vaux. bleary gaze on the ceiling; ragged exhale he hopefully cannot hear.
no immediate answer—better to not. this is not riding with one hand upon Sholmes' thigh, in perfect disguise. she can't act natural, and instead must act invisible. ]
Just drive.