Just wasn't expecting... all the details, I suppose.
[ and if he's honest, the idea of beloved and sex being two separate entities sits strangely. one without the other, fine, but sex elsewhere when you're involved? that's surprising. ]
[She makes a soft noise, a hmm of quiet disagreement.]
I did not. I didn't even tell you what we did at the gala. That would be details, and hideous ones at that.
[Someday she's going to remember this conversation and want to die.]
All I said was that I fuck a man-- or men, sometimes, or not men at all-- and I love another, that's barely anything at all. Honestly, John, learn to tell when you're being told something scandalous.
[ it keeps happening. it keeps! happening. but that's okay. the information goes filed away and shut down, none of his business really but known now, and John just - ]
Mmm.
[ okay. okay, he'll learn. but for now, please, let's change the subject. he doesn't want the retribution he's due from this. ]
I'll keep that in mind for next time. Are you tired yet?
[Fortunately (or unfortunately, maybe, depending on who you're asking) Rosalind is fairly easily redirected. Are you tired yet, and her thoughts go from Robert and Bigby to indignance and exhaustion. And something else, something darker, but she isn't going to think about that. That's half the reason she's drugged up right now, because she doesn't want to think about that.]
[She absolutely has a retort to that, but it's more a mumble than proper words. Something defiant, anyway, something that would be absolutely devastating, but John will just have to imagine it, because then the line goes dead.
She's out for hours, and it's twilight once she rouses again. Vaguely she has a thought that she must have hung up on John, and she'll apologize later, but honestly, the whole conversation is a blur. She remembers she was a little glib, laughing freely, but oh, well. There are worse things that could have happened.]
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[ surprised. surprise, Rosalind, it doesn't take that much after all. ]
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[A few seconds pass, and then, belatedly:]
Why are you surprised?
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I'd be fine, I'm just—
[ but Rosalind's moving on, and - ]
Just wasn't expecting... all the details, I suppose.
[ and if he's honest, the idea of beloved and sex being two separate entities sits strangely. one without the other, fine, but sex elsewhere when you're involved? that's surprising. ]
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I did not. I didn't even tell you what we did at the gala. That would be details, and hideous ones at that.
[Someday she's going to remember this conversation and want to die.]
All I said was that I fuck a man-- or men, sometimes, or not men at all-- and I love another, that's barely anything at all. Honestly, John, learn to tell when you're being told something scandalous.
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Mmm.
[ okay. okay, he'll learn. but for now, please, let's change the subject. he doesn't want the retribution he's due from this. ]
I'll keep that in mind for next time. Are you tired yet?
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No.
[Perhaps a bit, and she yawns as she says it.]
I want you to visit me soon.
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Okay. Soon.
[ and he will, he thinks. as soon as it's safe to leave here, as soon as it doesn't matter whether or not he comes back, he will. ]
But only if you rest. If I get there and you're cranky, I'm going home.
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Get some sleep, Rosalind. I'll come by soon.
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She's out for hours, and it's twilight once she rouses again. Vaguely she has a thought that she must have hung up on John, and she'll apologize later, but honestly, the whole conversation is a blur. She remembers she was a little glib, laughing freely, but oh, well. There are worse things that could have happened.]