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It's Brittany, Bitch | Ερις (eristic) wrote in paxletalelogs,

Charlie understood the man well enough, but simply didn't comprehend his apparent desire or need to know about her well-being. All it made her want to do was throw some horrendously rude words in his face, turn on her heel and walk out the door - but then there was that feeling in the back of her mind that she shouldn't do that, though the reason why was shrouded in darkness and just out of reach. Her tongue darted over her lips, wetting them and giving her a few seconds to try and think of how to respond.

"Sure as hell hope that buildin' hasn't got asbestos or whatever, not for the price I'm payin'," she remarked. Another distracting sentence, another attempt to not answer the question; Charlie gave a sigh. He and Cat were two who had seen her acting strangely, but only Rylee had been the one to know exactly what had happened to her. And even telling the man who'd been her best friend for nearly fifteen years had taken some work. Pushing the words out like there was a net in her throat, blocking the passage of such a weak admission.

"I, uh, had some...problems. With my ears. I, uh, was...hearin' things." The sentence was slowly and painfully produced, over the course of a few minutes, and she took in a deep breath of air afterward as though to reward herself. Of course, now she'd done it, it'd be one question after another, and she tried to steel herself for the inevitable barrage.