Zhi had continued with a muttered "since I last had good smokes, too," at the tail end of the word 'forever,' but it fell beneath Jager's words. She wasn't sure if he heard her. Didn't really matter if he hadn't. There was a calmness in the room that she hadn't experienced for a while. A slow breeze moved in past the open window, stirring the warm air. It felt nice.
She reached out a hand to take the bottle, but was unable to quite reach it. Rather than make the effort to sit up, she simply left her arm outstretched, hand limp as she waited for him to tip it just a bit closer her way.
The first question he posed she didn't answer, choosing instead to remain silent as he kept talking. And he was talking, was more talkative than he'd been since she'd met him. She thought she knew what that meant, and because she owed him she didn't tease him for his apparent weakness, even if she thought it ridiculous that he should be so skittish about what had occurred.
His last question confused her. "I don't. . .want that," she said, thinking of Galleon and Thatcher. "But I want t' . . . call me own shots. Tired o'sleepin' wi' lice an' fleas."
She reached out a hand to take the bottle, but was unable to quite reach it. Rather than make the effort to sit up, she simply left her arm outstretched, hand limp as she waited for him to tip it just a bit closer her way.
The first question he posed she didn't answer, choosing instead to remain silent as he kept talking. And he was talking, was more talkative than he'd been since she'd met him. She thought she knew what that meant, and because she owed him she didn't tease him for his apparent weakness, even if she thought it ridiculous that he should be so skittish about what had occurred.
His last question confused her. "I don't. . .want that," she said, thinking of Galleon and Thatcher. "But I want t' . . . call me own shots. Tired o'sleepin' wi' lice an' fleas."
