She takes the cup, wraps her hands around it; it reminds her, perhaps unavoidably, of sitting in the battered armchair at Angel Investigations, holding a cup of tea one of them gave her, lying to them about what she was doing there and hoping her real fear would give support to her lies.
"...I just wanted someone to know what happened," she whispers, and her throat contracts suddenly as with the threat of tears.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-05-06 07:23 pm (UTC)"...I just wanted someone to know what happened," she whispers, and her throat contracts suddenly as with the threat of tears.