[She huffs at him, narrowing her eyes and taking in short, shallow breaths like she's trying to hold in something (tears? frustration beyond words? both??) - and she can't. She's on the verge of breaking down, but it's not because of his compliance with a racist world. It's how often he insists he's this big bad creature that goes bump in the night, without once stopping to consider that maybe he has a choice in the matter.]
You have a choice, and at this point, I don't care what you do with it. [Lies. Huge, blatant lies betrayed only by the tears wallowing in her eyes.] I just don't think you should be punishing yourself for something that happened over a century ago.
[She blinks back surprise. Bonnie had fully expected some kind of backlash, or yelling, or - or anything that wasn't him walking away.]
I'm trying to. [Because that list of people who matter? Who she'd die for? It includes him now. He's doing a dumb thing again, trying to chase her off - but she did drive all the way here.
So she takes a deep breath and does the one thing she wouldn't do under normal circumstances: she levitates the letters she hadn't burned, returning them to their place on the desk - along with a box of matches she'd brought with her. (Hey, sometimes her magic fails her.)]
So here. You can burn them and forget... or keep them as a reminder of what happened. It's all on you.
[He doesn't understand her. He really doesn't. How can she still be so invested in helping him after everything he's told her today — hell, after everything he's done to her?]
Go home, Bonnie.
[He needs some time and space to process all this. But he's actually going to process it now, without liquor.]
no subject
[She huffs at him, narrowing her eyes and taking in short, shallow breaths like she's trying to hold in something (tears? frustration beyond words? both??) - and she can't. She's on the verge of breaking down, but it's not because of his compliance with a racist world. It's how often he insists he's this big bad creature that goes bump in the night, without once stopping to consider that maybe he has a choice in the matter.]
You have a choice, and at this point, I don't care what you do with it. [Lies. Huge, blatant lies betrayed only by the tears wallowing in her eyes.] I just don't think you should be punishing yourself for something that happened over a century ago.
no subject
Yes. I choose to be the bad guy. So save your compassion for someone else.
[With that, he lets go of her and steps back.]
Take care of the people who matter.
no subject
I'm trying to. [Because that list of people who matter? Who she'd die for? It includes him now. He's doing a dumb thing again, trying to chase her off - but she did drive all the way here.
So she takes a deep breath and does the one thing she wouldn't do under normal circumstances: she levitates the letters she hadn't burned, returning them to their place on the desk - along with a box of matches she'd brought with her. (Hey, sometimes her magic fails her.)]
So here. You can burn them and forget... or keep them as a reminder of what happened. It's all on you.
time for a new thread, i think
Go home, Bonnie.
[He needs some time and space to process all this. But he's actually going to process it now, without liquor.]
sounds good!
God, she messed that one up big time. Worst part was, she was actually trying.]