Re: Marvel: Wren and "Brielle"
Wren had never been close to the woman at her side. Even as a child, she'd watched Brielle's life with a kind of quiet envy that bordered on obsession. Brielle had, in so many ways, had everything Wren had ever wanted. Parents, a sister, a house, ballet, beauty; Wren's life had been a pastoral from a very literal hell. She watched the other woman now, and she wished she understood her. She didn't understand at all, and maybe she was just too simple for it.
And, oui, there was just curiosity in her grey eyes. Simplicity in the lack of comprehension.
The touch surprised her, and she looked down at the long fingers that encircled her wrist. She immediately thought of those hands on Luke, and there was a flash of anger in her grey eyes when her gaze raised once more.
But the words struck some cord, made something resonate. A lute, and Brielle plucked the string. "That isn't true. He doesn't need to save me." But there was doubt in the declaration. So very, very much doubt. Because she knew Luke. She did. She knew that was had - at least once - been part of her appeal.