01-03-2010, 12:18 AM
[html]
[/html]
http://i950.photobucket.com/albums/ad34 ... s/truc.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; padding-top:187px; background-position:top center; background-color:#F8BB4D; text-align:justify; font-family:georgia; font-size:11px; color:#AB360D; line-height:15px;padding-bottom:10px;">
@&#&$"Ownership?" he queried, brows knitting together. It seemed as though both of them were growing perplexed--he simply could not know that she "had no choice" in responding to his questions. If a topic perturbed someone enough, they would usually make it clear that it was not something up for discussion by simply not answering or changing the subject. Eventually he began to realise just how one-sided their conversation really was--he was the one asking all of the questions and she hadn't really said anything outside of what he'd "prompted" her to say.
@&#&$When her gaze dropped and she began to clamp up, he finally decided to give it a rest. He really shouldn't have been surprised that she was upset, he guessed--he was stirring up all these rotten memories of her deceased mother, after all. "Er, y'know, forget about it. I'm sorry," he offered, feeling somewhat useless. Usually he was pretty good at making others feel comfortable, and the fact that he was inadvertently doing the exact opposite was troublesome. Was he losing his touch? Although he was still somewhat curious over her word choice, he assumed it was just some trivial thing he was not understanding. This whole conversation was chock full of miscommunication so far.
@&#&$Her silence implied consent, so far as he was concerned, and he began to pad along quietly, leading the way to the little alcove in the hills. He sincerely hoped he hadn't fucked her day up too badly--this reach of the territory was usually so secluded, she'd probably just wanted alone time and wasn't expecting to find his nosy ass there. No more words spilled from his mouth as they moved--he was waiting, waiting for her to ask him something or tell him she wanted to leave or suggest some new topic of discussion. If nothing came of it, he'd just have to figure something (less personal) out himself.
mall-caps;font-weight:bold;text-align:right; border-top:1px solid #AB360D">SoSuWriMo +321
@&#&$When her gaze dropped and she began to clamp up, he finally decided to give it a rest. He really shouldn't have been surprised that she was upset, he guessed--he was stirring up all these rotten memories of her deceased mother, after all. "Er, y'know, forget about it. I'm sorry," he offered, feeling somewhat useless. Usually he was pretty good at making others feel comfortable, and the fact that he was inadvertently doing the exact opposite was troublesome. Was he losing his touch? Although he was still somewhat curious over her word choice, he assumed it was just some trivial thing he was not understanding. This whole conversation was chock full of miscommunication so far.
@&#&$Her silence implied consent, so far as he was concerned, and he began to pad along quietly, leading the way to the little alcove in the hills. He sincerely hoped he hadn't fucked her day up too badly--this reach of the territory was usually so secluded, she'd probably just wanted alone time and wasn't expecting to find his nosy ass there. No more words spilled from his mouth as they moved--he was waiting, waiting for her to ask him something or tell him she wanted to leave or suggest some new topic of discussion. If nothing came of it, he'd just have to figure something (less personal) out himself.
mall-caps;font-weight:bold;text-align:right; border-top:1px solid #AB360D">SoSuWriMo +321