Re: Marta / Seven
[She feels like her breath can't quite make itself as deep as she needs it to, like there's not quite enough air to keep her breathing properly. She feels trapped in the gaze and anger and frustration between them, and while he may not react to her shove, she winces at it when he hits the bike behind him. She wants the tension out of her body, out of the line of his jaw that looks about enough to crack his teeth with the way it's clenched.]
Stop thinking that I'm looking for some prince charming bullshit! [Her voice is loud enough and high enough to slice through his and the night's quiet. If she were thinking, she'd be glad that the next houses are fairly far away.] I'm not a fucking innocent princess, Seven! You don't do monogamy? Yeah, I've fucking seen it. What happens? Either you tell me ahead of time and I clear out, or I get catty at whatever pretty thing you bring back here. [She follows his movement with her eyes, rooted to her own spot on the driveway.] It's why I'm not asking for monogamy, asshole!
[Her voice shakes, and she wouldn't be able to say why, even if she tried to think about it. It's too much emotion in too small of a body.] I don't know what happens! We fucking move forward. But give me a little bit of fucking credit that I realize that shit with you is hard and imperfect. You've got a mansion now when you grew up shitty. You've got fucking guns and dogs and you've said you've killed people and you've got scars that don't come from fucking papercuts at a desk. But I get that, okay? Fuck, it's not like I've been living some sheltered life, Seven! You saw one of the places I lived as a kid, and it's not like the others were much better. Or that I moved up in the world when I ran a-fucking-way. I crashed in flop houses for the past few years, and that's not exactly a not-fucked-up lifestyle either!
[It's the laughter, the talk about their ages, that makes her pull another angry breath, step forward again, even if it's just half a step. And instead of louder, her voice drops. And that's almost even worse than the shouting, especially when her eyebrows pull down into a glare.] Yeah, I fucking see it. How can I not, when everyone I fucking talk to tells me how goddamn young I am, to the point of being disgusted by it? It's not like I don't know that I'm younger than you. [She has to stop before she says anything else, heartbeat racing behind her ribs like a panicked bird.]