Re: Mat & Ren || Heading toward the Docks
What should be impressive, however, is how exquisitely she’d swept into a deadpan of not seeming disoriented that he’d accepted the overture of some nude, impish caper. In her cynical, initial assessment of his nature (these appraisals usually run a 87.6% accuracy) she hadn’t unearthed any convivial ellipse in his dark geometry. And quite frankly, she’d only mentioned skinny dipping for the shock value. She knew he was being innocuous, conversational. He’d hardly blinked. Well, Bob Fosse, challenge accepted.
There is this slow burning worm of the booze, dripdropping thru her pale ventricles, and she looks out at the breathing glints of the lakewater, thinking what if I drown? and says, “Good.” outloud, accidentally. Though, to him, this likely appeared to go along with her previous nihilism.