thedispatch | (no subject)

Not entirely. If I'm going to provide you any hope, you have to be open to it.

[ He watches her carefully before glancing down at her plate. ]

The jam and toast are decent. Eat.

[ That doesn't seen appetising, but with a sigh, she picks up a piece of toast to nibble at tentatively. Indeed, it tastes like normal bread. ]

I've no idea what your expectations are, to be frank. Do you plan to house me with supervision through the day? Buy me things, as you would a woman?

We most likely wouldn't have any issue returning to London. I doubt any of my family or acquaintances have noticed my absence. Though staying in my home has become difficult since she passed, perhaps it would feel more comfortable with another there.

[ The second part of her questioning remains unanswered. This whole ordeal is an odd scenario, to be sure. ]

[ Grell breathes a quiet sigh, staring at the strawberry preserves for a good moment before taking a bite. It's prettier than it is tasty. ]

I'm-- not certain you realise, moving me into your private home could cause some commotion.

What I do is no one's business apart from my own.

[ Looking her in the eyes, the seriousness of that statement is undeniable. ]

[ The redhead can feel her cheeks warm, as that sort of unwavering confidence may actually provide her reassurance-- and just the slightest bit of attraction. ]

The law would have different opinions. [ In case he has had trouble noticing, she removes her glasses to set aside on the table. Her black eye is maybe a few days old. ]

Most would.

[ He'd noticed, certainly, and it unfortunately hadn't surprised him. ]

Have you attempted to blend in, so to speak?

[ Obviously that's not what she wants but it may be necessary. But then, that's part of the problem isn't it? ]

[ Brow furrowing, she slumps. ]

This is my attempt.

[ Ah. She hasn't entirely failed, though. Their host didn't seem to bat any eye at them. And if he'd pieced her situation together merely from her looks and mannerisms, he wouldn't of had to ask why she was on the cliff's edge. ]

You will need to cut your hair shorter.

[ By the look he receives, one might assume he'd asked her to lose a leg! She sets her toast back onto her plate, what appetite she had gone. ]

Eat.

[ He indicates the toast with his own fork. Appetite or not, she needs something for energy. Oh and that look doesn't phase him. ]

Long hair isn't entirely uncommon, but paired with other attributes, it will be a gateway towards other's suspecting something.

[ Sitting back, she shakes her head with a swallow. ]

I already feel as though I'm looking at someone else entirely, when I chance a gaze in the mirror. It's the only part of myself that I can appreciate, when I've done so much else to conform. Which was never enough.

[ He can't relate, obviously, nor does he entirely understand the concept of not feeling right in your own body. But for some reason, he still sympathises. ]

Perhaps we're better off building your self confidence.

[ Breathing a shaky sigh, she crosses her arms. ]

There's no foundation to build on.

[ Looking off about the room, she shifts to get up. ]

I'm going to find the 'loo.

[ He watches her, warily. As he seems of have revived all her sadness with his questions, he has no doubt she'll attempt to run off. ]

I expect you to return.

[ He doesn't. So once she's found the room, he excuses himself from the table, leaving some cash on the table for the woman and heading for the door. The window to the bathroom is easily enough found, unfortunately, and he makes a point to stay in sight of both it and the front door. ]

[ Once she finally locks herself in, Grell slumps back against the adjacent wall, running her hands under her glasses. This was intended to be an easy trip, a one-way destination... but, as always, she managed to find trouble.

She hasn't long to dally before William rouses to check on her, though; with a heavy sigh, she approaches the window - and sees that he's already three steps ahead. Cursing under her breath, she backs away quickly.

Minutes later, she's at the front door to meet him, her gait slow and defeated.

As soon as she steps out, however, she takes off at a full sprint in the opposite direction! ]

[ Now it's William's turn to curse to himself. He should have unhitched the horse when he first came outside. As it is, Grell's already gotten a decent ways away once William hurries to the hitching post. He'd have kept his eye on her if he could, but he'd wound the reins too tightly to work them apart merely by touch. Alas, the dirt road is clear of her, meaning she must have taken to the woods. His horse would do him no good in there.

The woods are thick and fairly dim with the day still barely starting. William steps over fallen trees and pushes aside large bushes to see if she's tucked herself away somewhere. Unfortunately, he's already lost any sense of where he'd entered and where she may have gone. With a heavy sigh, he leans himself against a tree, wondering just what he was doing. ]

[ Now that William has stilled, it may be easier for him to hear-- she's not too far, breath wheezing. Keeled over against a hollowed log, she can't seem to take herself any further, for as he'd predicted, she has no energy. Her body is weak. Her voice sounds miserable. ]

You'd be better off saving a dog from the streets, you know.

[ Unmoving, she stares at a knife in her hand, its blade resting against her palm. It's been sheathed in her pocket, waiting for use; in fact, she intended to draw it at the cliff. Yet, she hesitates. ]

Edited 2019-11-27 07:33 (UTC)

[ Lost in his own thoughts, he doesn't realise she's close until he hears her speak. Her voice is coming from behind him and he rounds the large tree to see her on the ground. ]

Honestly, I never really cared for dogs.

[ Why he's caring for this person, though, he can't quite explain. Unfortunately, the knife is well concealed from his view, so he's under the impression that she'd given in to him. ]

[ A corner of her mouth twinges. ]

Who's to say that you'll care for me?

[ Not spoken in the hypothetical sense, this time. The thought of giving life a second chance truly leaves her sick to her stomach - or perhaps it's all the running - but there's something else that just doesn't sit right with her, either. ]

I believe that would be my decision to make.

[ He finally approaches, with the intention of hoisting her up by an arm. But he pauses when he notices what's in her hand. He's unsure whether that knife is intended for herself of him. ]

That isn't any more reassuring...

[ Noting that he's halted, she softly wraps her hand about its blade. She doesn't mean to intimidate him. ]

This morning, I woke unafraid, but now... I'm terrified.

Edited 2019-11-27 08:02 (UTC)

That wasn't my intention.

[ Goodness, he really is bad at expressing care or comfort. Perhaps that's why his wife never grew to love him back. The more he thinks back on it, the more he realises just how cold he'd been towards her despite his love.

He still doesn't pull her up, but instead, moves to kneel before her. Even now, he's unsure of what to say to sway her, and the conflict of it is plainly written on his face. ]

[ Raising her gaze to meet his, it's clear that she'd been crying; the tears on her cheeks are nearly try, yet her eyes glisten with those unshed. ]

Promise that you won't abandon me. Because, now, I apparently can't see it in me to leave you.

[ William nods before carefully taking the knife from her hands. It's set aside among the dried leaves. Then, keeping her hands in his, he slowly stands, urging her to follow along. ]

I promise that to you.