Monsters that...protect? Neph's head tips so far to the left her neck pops and her hair brushes her shoulder. She turns the concept over, examining it as intently as she's ever applied her Bronzesight to an enchanted bauble. To say it's a new idea would be assuming she'd ever considered her abilities anything but dangerous or self-serving. She'd always thought she was being self aware. Had she been shutting herself off from other, better applications? All this time?
"Oh," is all she says at first, as her thoughts trip back to that miliinstant when she'd decided to drop down and stop the bullet instead of deflecting it. The gun was so close, a nudge might've only sent the shot into his jaw or neck instead--
That will matter to him. Hannibal says, and the only reason his conviction matters at all is because he admits he's no longer so sure it will be enough. If he can doubt that, then he must be right about their protection having some weight. Neph only realizes her mouth has parted at the thought when she has to swallow and lick suddenly dry lips.
"I hope he does," which is...more than she's admitted to Hannibal out loud, up til now. She's insisted that Will move in with them if he wanted, she's sided with him in arguments and she's spent dozens of frustrating hours chewing through textbooks beside him, but she's never come out and told Hannibal I want your boyfriend around. I like him here. It's a day for declarations.
She's not awake enough yet to handle Hannibal's abrupt 180 on Messing With Will, even with the unsure turn this conversation's taken. Neph blinks and nods slowly, conceding to his read on the situation. She's been unconscious for like a week, what does she know about Will's current mental state? "Okay," she clears her throat, lightens her voice, "Tell him 'bout the Chinese food then."
If sharing the news means he comes back instead of hobbling as far as his leg will take him, who's she to complain?
Hannibal's mouth does that thing it does when he's torn between a couple priorities, such an everyday thing that Neph smiles tiredly and shifts off his shoulder. "Go 'head," she pats at him. "M'gonna take a shower. I prob'ly smell like a housefire." The fact that Hannibal willingly got all up on her anyway says a lot about how freaked out he must've been by her Burnout. Just for that, she won't make fun of him for grabbing his own shampoo from the apartment.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2017-09-04 12:07 am (UTC)"Oh," is all she says at first, as her thoughts trip back to that miliinstant when she'd decided to drop down and stop the bullet instead of deflecting it. The gun was so close, a nudge might've only sent the shot into his jaw or neck instead--
That will matter to him. Hannibal says, and the only reason his conviction matters at all is because he admits he's no longer so sure it will be enough. If he can doubt that, then he must be right about their protection having some weight. Neph only realizes her mouth has parted at the thought when she has to swallow and lick suddenly dry lips.
"I hope he does," which is...more than she's admitted to Hannibal out loud, up til now. She's insisted that Will move in with them if he wanted, she's sided with him in arguments and she's spent dozens of frustrating hours chewing through textbooks beside him, but she's never come out and told Hannibal I want your boyfriend around. I like him here. It's a day for declarations.
She's not awake enough yet to handle Hannibal's abrupt 180 on Messing With Will, even with the unsure turn this conversation's taken. Neph blinks and nods slowly, conceding to his read on the situation. She's been unconscious for like a week, what does she know about Will's current mental state? "Okay," she clears her throat, lightens her voice, "Tell him 'bout the Chinese food then."
If sharing the news means he comes back instead of hobbling as far as his leg will take him, who's she to complain?
Hannibal's mouth does that thing it does when he's torn between a couple priorities, such an everyday thing that Neph smiles tiredly and shifts off his shoulder. "Go 'head," she pats at him. "M'gonna take a shower. I prob'ly smell like a housefire." The fact that Hannibal willingly got all up on her anyway says a lot about how freaked out he must've been by her Burnout. Just for that, she won't make fun of him for grabbing his own shampoo from the apartment.