"Such a happy puppet, dancing on a string?" Bre asked as she leafed through the pages of Aramis' journal, reading the names of the men who'd broken his heart. "I mean, come on... It's like you'd have done anything to please them."
Aramis glared at the girl from across their table. They were sitting in the middle of a rather empty tavern, the faint clicking of glasses and mugs being put away seeming rather loud now that the other conversations had died down. They'd stayed at this particular tavern because it charged fairly low rent for the rooms upstairs, and they didn't have much to spare anyway. The place was usually this empty, though. For the past two days they'd taken up there, it was usually devoid of human life. It was quiet. Too quiet for Aramis to be comfortable.
"No one told you to go reading through that," he snarled, snatching the journal away from her. "That's none of your business. What I do and with whom is none of your business, do you understand that?"
"All right, I got it, geez!" Bre exclaimed, putting her hands up defensively. "No need to get to snippy with me! I was just wondering! So... What you wrote there. Is it true? All of it?"
Aramis narrowed his eyes at the girl. "How much of it did you read?" he asked lowly. "Enough, I guess," she replied, placing her hands flat upon the table. Aramis stood up from the table angrily and leaned over the table, scowling at the girl. "Next time you go reading through my journal without my permission, I swear you're going to regret it." He slammed a couple of gold pieces onto the table top as he stormed out of the tavern, trying to ease his temper. He knows he shouldn't have been so harsh on Bre, but that was a serious invasion of his privacy... and to ask him such a question was completely out of line.
Company. He needed company that night, company Bre couldn't provide.
 Bleeding Apocalypse · Sun May 29, 2005 @ 07:47pm · 2 Comments |
