Despite herself, she smiles back; a smile without laughter, but with, perhaps, a certain softer and more withheld sort of humour. "I know myself not at all," she confesses, and shakes her head. "And gladly will I take you at your word, be it truth or pretty lie; for there, at least, there may be hope."
Hope is not a thing she much allows herself, nor ever has. It is evident in her dry tone, and in the distance in her eyes; most of all, it is evident in the sorrow that still lingers on her, even when she smiles.
"You have surprised me," she admits, after a moment more, "and in truth, I am glad of it. Will you accompany me back inside?"
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sforzinda
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Date: 2021-09-27 12:45 am (UTC)Hope is not a thing she much allows herself, nor ever has. It is evident in her dry tone, and in the distance in her eyes; most of all, it is evident in the sorrow that still lingers on her, even when she smiles.
"You have surprised me," she admits, after a moment more, "and in truth, I am glad of it. Will you accompany me back inside?"