Re: [Log: Ash/Dahlia]
The silence was, at best, uncomfortable. At worst? Violent. Not that silence was a weapon that Dahlia wielded particularly well. She was too proud to ignore a challenge, too aggressive to let somebody else get the last word. But fuck it if right now she weren't wishing for latent laser vision to manifest, just judging by her white-hot stare—practically tangible, her anger, heating up the office.
The guy asked 'bout her shiner, and those pond-green eyes squinted at him. Her experience with his kind were limited to brief stints 'tween rehab and support groups, but that seemed like an unusually—frank comment from a shrink. But then again, weren't they always nosing their way into shit?
Speaking of noses—hers flared nostrils slightly, heavy eyes squinting in momentary thought. Her heightened sense of smell weren't real well trained, but she could pick up something animal. Maybe the dude had a dog at home? Whatever. Who fucking knew. Who fucking cared. Dude was just trying to get her to talk. Get way personal, ask pointed questions, pry secrets out, all that shit. That's what they always did, these fucking shrinks. None of them ever stopped to think that some secrets? Weren't theirs to know.
Man, don't do it, she told herself. Don't say a word, don't even open your fucking mou— "None of your fuckin' business." Goddamnit.
Well, so much for that. Dahlia sighed. Her eye-roll of impatience made a handy mask for the sheer dread flooding in her gut. She didn't trust men, she didn't trust therapy—but most of all, she didn't trust herself even to talk. If she let slip 'bout where she got to on full moons, this guy probably weren't gonna think twice before committing her. Which she assumed he could just do, if she sounded crazy enough.
While her thoughts and emotions dwelled on the scenario flitting 'round in her head, Dahlia countered with frankness of her own. "Look, can we jus' get this fuckin' done with?" she growled, low voice all gravel and whiskey rasp. "I don't wanna be here. I don't wanna talk 'bout shit, an' askin' me anythin' is just gonna be a fuckin' waste of both our times." She slumped lower behind knees. "An' I ain't layin' down on your stupid couch." Even if she was nearly horizontal at this point.