[ Now he's turned stories into lies. She knows her own past, doesn't she? She's lived here all her life. She doesn't forget people... She wouldn't forget love. And so she hasn't. What she feels is not only real, but it's— ...Something old.
How many times has she come near to losing it? Her eyes are wide as she stares at him, though it's to he credit that Vanessa isn't the sort to ever dismiss someone as merely mad. Not when her heart pinches and her nerves buzz the closer he is.
So close. ]
Why would—
[ Why would I forget? She can't finish the thought, as pain suddenly smashes into her skull and nearly sends her doubling over. With a gasp, her hand flies to cover her eyes, and she takes a step back with her other hand out as if to keep the unseen at bay. Her voice is suddenly ragged, more reminiscent of the melancholy scratch she previously whispered through. ]
I...I know who I am. I am Vanessa Ives.
[ But what does that mean? Is Vanessa Ives not a laundress, a seamstress? Is Vanessa Ives in love? No. This magic isn't friendly. Something is wrong. ]
no subject
How many times has she come near to losing it? Her eyes are wide as she stares at him, though it's to he credit that Vanessa isn't the sort to ever dismiss someone as merely mad. Not when her heart pinches and her nerves buzz the closer he is.
So close. ]
Why would—
[ Why would I forget? She can't finish the thought, as pain suddenly smashes into her skull and nearly sends her doubling over. With a gasp, her hand flies to cover her eyes, and she takes a step back with her other hand out as if to keep the unseen at bay. Her voice is suddenly ragged, more reminiscent of the melancholy scratch she previously whispered through. ]
I...I know who I am. I am Vanessa Ives.
[ But what does that mean? Is Vanessa Ives not a laundress, a seamstress? Is Vanessa Ives in love? No. This magic isn't friendly. Something is wrong. ]