02-01-2015, 03:40 PM
"I just know what you feel. Not what you think."
It didn't really need clarifying, but she offered it up as reassurance anyway, a half-smile ghosting her lips. The things he said about Aria were disturbing, though, and the concern flittered freely across her expression. Why would she react so poorly? She rubbed the side of her head, feeding thick strands of hair frustratedly through her fingers. Elias was right. She didn't need someone "like her." Before tonight, she'd never even known her abilities weren't just some unique aberration. But he was wrong about needing someone. Asha was self-sufficient, and relished the independence, but she was also lonely. So much of her coping mechanism had been tied up with her uncle.
She blinked surprise at the gift of money, for once at a loss for words. His warning tasted sharp and dark, the sincerity of it, his certainty. It layered his words with something insistent, soaking her skin as deep as the cold and prompting a shiver. Sleeping in a building of strangers, each soul a faint tug on her mind, was less enticing that an apartment with someone who was at least an acquaintance. But he made it sound - made it feel - very necessary. Had he not walked so resolutely away, she probably would have been swept up in the current of his warning. So easily swayed, she would have followed with little insistence. But he left, and the urgency faded, leaving her numb in its wake.
He'd given his number too. Left to the purity of emotions solely her own, she appreciated that more than the cash.
Asha didn't head back up right away. Elias plagued her with uncertainty, and she waited for his presence to clear before she made a decision. In the end she was still conflicted when she climbed her way back up, and pushed her way back into the apartment, fingers numb on the door handle.
It didn't really need clarifying, but she offered it up as reassurance anyway, a half-smile ghosting her lips. The things he said about Aria were disturbing, though, and the concern flittered freely across her expression. Why would she react so poorly? She rubbed the side of her head, feeding thick strands of hair frustratedly through her fingers. Elias was right. She didn't need someone "like her." Before tonight, she'd never even known her abilities weren't just some unique aberration. But he was wrong about needing someone. Asha was self-sufficient, and relished the independence, but she was also lonely. So much of her coping mechanism had been tied up with her uncle.
She blinked surprise at the gift of money, for once at a loss for words. His warning tasted sharp and dark, the sincerity of it, his certainty. It layered his words with something insistent, soaking her skin as deep as the cold and prompting a shiver. Sleeping in a building of strangers, each soul a faint tug on her mind, was less enticing that an apartment with someone who was at least an acquaintance. But he made it sound - made it feel - very necessary. Had he not walked so resolutely away, she probably would have been swept up in the current of his warning. So easily swayed, she would have followed with little insistence. But he left, and the urgency faded, leaving her numb in its wake.
He'd given his number too. Left to the purity of emotions solely her own, she appreciated that more than the cash.
Asha didn't head back up right away. Elias plagued her with uncertainty, and she waited for his presence to clear before she made a decision. In the end she was still conflicted when she climbed her way back up, and pushed her way back into the apartment, fingers numb on the door handle.