Dori could not explain herself to Echo, or to anyone else for that matter. Meeting Whistler in the library had been a singularly refreshing experience; he recognized her. ‘Custodi me a morte personam’, he had said, as if she couldn’t have simply stolen his life if that was her intention. It had been a rush, though, to toy with his life force, to snap it like a rubber band.
“I see things that others don’t,” she said instead. “It makes me different. What a person sees marks them. It clings to them, like a smell… like lilies.”
She blinked.
“I’ll hang the chimes from your box when they’re finished,” she said, abruptly changing course. “I think you’ll like them.”
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ninetydegrees
no subject
on 2014-04-13 12:59 am (UTC)“I see things that others don’t,” she said instead. “It makes me different. What a person sees marks them. It clings to them, like a smell… like lilies.”
She blinked.
“I’ll hang the chimes from your box when they’re finished,” she said, abruptly changing course. “I think you’ll like them.”