[ his initial comment isn't news to her; marta's heard variations of it time and time again, but so often they come from people who can afford to speak their mind with little consequence that the words just sort of blur together and grow fuzzy. so she's more than a little prepared for the sentiment when he makes it, ready to tip her chin up and steady her gaze (to keep her eyes from rolling over, of course) but what he ends up saying next is nowhere near what she could have expected that for a second marta is convinced she'd heard him wrong.
(she would not have put it past her drink-addled mind to conjure up some foolish wishful thinking.)
but no. those are his words coming from his mouth, leaving his lips that twist like he's frustrated about something but all he keeps looking at is her. what did she do? ]
Eres un hombre muy interesante.
[ she says the words like a curse, lips curling with a wry little smile, but like everything else she says it's the truth. he's as interesting as he is dangerous, and she's not sure which leads to what anymore.
she trusts he can figure out the meaning himself, though he'll probably be disappointed it's not what he's goading her for. she's quick to smooth out the obvious surprise on her face, the way her brows ticked closer to her hairline in that split-second it'd taken her to process what she'd just heard. her expression a little more neutral, she forgoes her own glass to take another swig straight from the bottle. the heat that follows is a welcome one, even if it's still nothing like the feeling of his chest pressed up against hers — things she shouldn't be thinking about, let alone remembering. ]
And I'm not mean. [ rude. ] I just worry less about what I say.
no subject
(she would not have put it past her drink-addled mind to conjure up some foolish wishful thinking.)
but no. those are his words coming from his mouth, leaving his lips that twist like he's frustrated about something but all he keeps looking at is her. what did she do? ]
Eres un hombre muy interesante.
[ she says the words like a curse, lips curling with a wry little smile, but like everything else she says it's the truth. he's as interesting as he is dangerous, and she's not sure which leads to what anymore.
she trusts he can figure out the meaning himself, though he'll probably be disappointed it's not what he's goading her for. she's quick to smooth out the obvious surprise on her face, the way her brows ticked closer to her hairline in that split-second it'd taken her to process what she'd just heard. her expression a little more neutral, she forgoes her own glass to take another swig straight from the bottle. the heat that follows is a welcome one, even if it's still nothing like the feeling of his chest pressed up against hers — things she shouldn't be thinking about, let alone remembering. ]
And I'm not mean. [ rude. ] I just worry less about what I say.