This is the most gentle he's ever been with her. granted, they didn't touch much, but it came off as strange. still, at the soft touch she leans into his hand, looking at him. she had to look pathetic to him- makeup halfway down her face, pale and bruising, wrist all bandaged up. not to mention the stitches at the back of her scalp.

she looked really cute. really cute.

still, with each touch, as his thumb crosses a bruise or two, she whimpers softly. cute and pathetic.

when he speaks again, she is, through no otherworldly powers, compelled to answer. "he got mad," she said as if she could downplay it. He'd gotten word of it and that was all he had needed. he'd had it confirmed and brought it up. From there the conversation had escalated until she found herself here.

"He's furious just like you said. I knew it, but..." but he was here. Fagin had put her here in the first place. "He'll come around. Nothing I can't handle." it was her nature to downplay anything like this. so here she was. "Official diagnosis is I fell down his stairs." and took a fire poker to the back of the head.