08-10-2008, 04:56 PM
Lol.
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She nodded, a grim-looking smile appearing like a ghost on her face, as she hugged her knees close to her and then rested her chin on her arms. Surely she thought of this little plague that they had as a small setback — it certainly wasn’t the apocalypse or something (or maybe it was, and they just didn’t know yet). Nikita had believed that they would get over it sooner or later and things would turn out peachy keen; surprising, especially since she wasn’t much of an optimist. Maybe she was forcing herself to believe that because she was one of the afflicted. Which is probably why his next question — what happens if you don’t get better? — stopped her thoughts in their tracks for a moment. This certainly wasn’t some illness that she was dying over — that was for damned sure. Attempting to avoid the question’s seriousness, she simply retreated behind a smile and said lightly, “Then I guess I won’t be drinking much anymore.” She meant it as a joke, though it came out more as a damnation. Her smile faltered, and she sighed into her forearms.
Nikita shrugged at his wandering thought, realizing afterwards that his eyes were closed and that he couldn’t see the action. “Maybe,” she supplemented, looking down to the sandy ground. “But… does it matter where it comes from? It’s here now, and we’ll just have to sit and wait to see what happens. If it disappears, great. If it doesn’t, we’ll figure it out then.” Even though the thoughts of more really-thirsty-but-not-hungry days were daunting in her mind.
She nodded, a grim-looking smile appearing like a ghost on her face, as she hugged her knees close to her and then rested her chin on her arms. Surely she thought of this little plague that they had as a small setback — it certainly wasn’t the apocalypse or something (or maybe it was, and they just didn’t know yet). Nikita had believed that they would get over it sooner or later and things would turn out peachy keen; surprising, especially since she wasn’t much of an optimist. Maybe she was forcing herself to believe that because she was one of the afflicted. Which is probably why his next question — what happens if you don’t get better? — stopped her thoughts in their tracks for a moment. This certainly wasn’t some illness that she was dying over — that was for damned sure. Attempting to avoid the question’s seriousness, she simply retreated behind a smile and said lightly, “Then I guess I won’t be drinking much anymore.” She meant it as a joke, though it came out more as a damnation. Her smile faltered, and she sighed into her forearms.
Nikita shrugged at his wandering thought, realizing afterwards that his eyes were closed and that he couldn’t see the action. “Maybe,” she supplemented, looking down to the sandy ground. “But… does it matter where it comes from? It’s here now, and we’ll just have to sit and wait to see what happens. If it disappears, great. If it doesn’t, we’ll figure it out then.” Even though the thoughts of more really-thirsty-but-not-hungry days were daunting in her mind.