[ She puts a mug in his hands like it means nothing, nothing at all, and Carver can only stare at her. He watches until she drinks too, waiting to see her fake it and prove that it's been drugged, but she doesn't hesitate.
After a moment, he sheaths the knife. The mug feels warm in his hand, even with the sap gloves. ]
What.
[ It comes out flat. Almost angry. She does this like it means nothing. ]
no subject
After a moment, he sheaths the knife. The mug feels warm in his hand, even with the sap gloves. ]
What.
[ It comes out flat. Almost angry. She does this like it means nothing. ]