LYDIA MARTIN

[wantadistraction]

"You know what to do."

Comments

[wantadistraction]

[ It's almost a shame that he can't see the way she chuckles at his response or how she bites her lip when he comes back with more. ]

See? I stand by my statement that you are dangerously charming.

It's also clear that you have put a lot of thought into this, Charles. Or how I might taste?

[greatswellofpity]

I have. More than I care to admit.

And I've come up empty. Nothing I imagine feels...significant enough.

[wantadistraction]

Why is it more than you care to admit?

[greatswellofpity]

[Charles doesn't answer for a couple minutes--because he's thinking hard about this one. How to tell her...

How he wants her. How he enjoys her, not the visual feast of her beauty but the delightful way they verbally spar and the easy way they talk.

How he...wants her.]

Because death has left me enchanted by his paramour, and so I lie awake each night, straining, hoping, to hear the wailing woman call out my name.

[wantadistraction]

[ At first, she wonders if maybe she has asked something she shouldn't have. If maybe they should have danced around this, whatever it was, a little bit longer.

But then he replies and it's almost too much. But perfectly so.

She almost makes the comment that most people wouldn't want a wailing woman to call out their name but she knows that he isn't what he is getting at. At least, she is fairly sure that he isn't. ]

Perhaps one night, you will.