She doesn't blink. There's nothing in her made or left that might. She's been being trained for this world in some way, almost since she was born, the ways of monsters and magic. She'd expect nothing less from every one of her contemporaries. She's been in fights she's won and lost by the skin of her teeth all year, near every year, since her graduation at seventeen. She's nearly died only twice. Only. And both times she was saved by the same man.

This one, but not this one. Hers, but not hers, and never hers again.


The last time he hadn't stayed long enough to see if she even woke up. It was a clear enough message.
About his ownership of the globe, and his feelings about how everything had gone down with her choices.


"I'll make you a deal, if-" There's a second, curse Godrick, that she nearly reaches out to touch him -- tug on his shirt, pull his belt loop, something deceptively simple and absolutely beyond the bounds of something to even consider -- when she decides to say those words. Something coy and casual, just enough frank that the twist is like a dash of spice. But he isn't hers to touch, moment of weakness and stupid (and his curling down around her) aside.

She pushes off the car instead, sliding away from between it and him. "If you are game."