Margot once found it annoying that every stranger’s greeting accompanied porcelain-fueled curiosity. She didn’t understand then how intrinsic people’s most unique qualities become. How over months and years that which makes you special is so ingrained in you, as simple as breathing.
Now, she meets that fascination with a smile, pale gaze hinting at the secrets of her fragility.
“You’re not missing much,” Margot replies coyly, then scrapes her knee against the ground in such a way that it creates a grating noise. “See?” she asks as she rises to stand, “So inconspicuous.”
A few slight scratches begin to ooze blood down the ivory of Margot’s leg. She sighs in an almost chiding way, then rolls her eyes.
“We all bleed the same, I suppose.”
Margot slowly drifts her gaze over Severe before answering the woman’s question.
“Years now, I think. It’s hard to keep track amongst all the . . . monotony.” She pauses, appraising the demon’s slick face. “I’m a terrible ruler for not knowing how long you’ve been here, Severe. Care to enlighten me?”
@Severe