[There is just a tinge of desperation in her tone, betraying the tension she has kept tightly bound within her. He is full of contradictions: he is interested in her, and generous, and willing to listen—but then, he is also ominous, and mysterious, and speaks of such unhappy things, pushing her into uncomfortable territories of conversation. He intrudes upon her world of light and lace and luxuries, and his brand of reality and cynicism is too bitter a medicine for her to swallow, tonight.
His question is deliberately ignored, neatly and quietly set aside. He can ask such questions, deeply intimate and far too private to divulge to a stranger, because he possesses an air of utter confidence, as if entitled to know her every secret. But she cannot, and chooses not to, even if she had been given the option. She is just "Darling Daisy"—but a daisy wouldn't be so darling if it asked questions, anymore.
She averts her attention to her cigarette, pulling in deep breaths, watching him through the smoke and the heat of the summer night, as if he is just a mirage she has conjured. Just what city, she wonders, has brought up such a man?]
no subject
[There is just a tinge of desperation in her tone, betraying the tension she has kept tightly bound within her. He is full of contradictions: he is interested in her, and generous, and willing to listen—but then, he is also ominous, and mysterious, and speaks of such unhappy things, pushing her into uncomfortable territories of conversation. He intrudes upon her world of light and lace and luxuries, and his brand of reality and cynicism is too bitter a medicine for her to swallow, tonight.
His question is deliberately ignored, neatly and quietly set aside. He can ask such questions, deeply intimate and far too private to divulge to a stranger, because he possesses an air of utter confidence, as if entitled to know her every secret. But she cannot, and chooses not to, even if she had been given the option. She is just "Darling Daisy"—but a daisy wouldn't be so darling if it asked questions, anymore.
She averts her attention to her cigarette, pulling in deep breaths, watching him through the smoke and the heat of the summer night, as if he is just a mirage she has conjured. Just what city, she wonders, has brought up such a man?]