[open] your twisted thoughts like snow on the rooftops

[litotes]

but you’d never get hit without earning it
and i only hit you first ‘cuz i deserved my own hit too
still it comes the time to call you out
since i’m the one that you should be about

The challenging way Novel peers at Litotes no longer ignites an irrational flame in his chest; instead, he stares back with notably less curiosity. A tired attempt to find humor dangles between the two, but it does not stick. The avian shifter seems to have omniscient eyes, killing any joke he may think of, a thought that the cremello finds he does not mind.

She asks about his anger.

The stallion’s eyes go dark once again, this time more pointed and less wildly plague-induced. He considers the mare with as much of an analytical gaze as he can muster. Somewhere, deep down, is an appropriate answer. Will he offer one? Certainly not.

A sputtering laugh is his initial response, then the bitter words: “Would you take plague-ridden hallucinations of a shitty father as an acceptable response?” Lie does not smile. This feels less and less like a laughing matter to him. He wishes she did not ask, but resigns himself with a broken sigh and a need to change the subject.

“Why do you ask?” his tone sarcastic, smile wry. “I’m perfectly rational.”

Litotes

@[Novel]