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wander here
oneeyetwoeye wrote in pandoraheartsdr
Late that night, Senta is sitting in the kitchen. Underdressed, unbound, and barefoot, she sits slumped at the kitchen table, in only pants and a loose white shirt. Womanhood still mostly concealed, by the slump of her shoulders, the posture she maintains and her sprawled legs.

Her head rests in her hands. Her tea is stone cold.

Her chest feels like a blistered, throbbing, mess. The contracts are bad tonight.

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Liam's internal clock is off, and he's coming in for an especially late dinner.

He stops in the doorway when he sees her, a bit wary until he recognizes which version she is. He's still wary, but less so.

"Senta? Are you ill?"

"Not ill at all."

She promises, trying to lift her head.

He knows she's lying. She looks ill.

"Your tea's gone cold. I'll make you another cup. Did you want any kind in particular?"

"No thank you, Liam."

She manages, shaking her head firmly.

"I'm making myself some anyway."

He insists quietly.

"Thank you, then."


He smiles a bit.

"I'm really not picky with tea; I like nearly everything. What are you in the mood for?"

He doesn't push the point. Instead he puts on a kettle and opens the tea cabinet to decide himself. He winds up choosing a honey chamomile green tea. After a moment finally says.

"You don't look well. What's wrong?"

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