( Clementine's gaze narrows. She's used to a slurred voice meaning someone who's drunk, but he hasn't been drinking, and he's moving so carefully. She doesn't know what the fuck to make of it, but she also doesn't feel safe.
She's warring with those survival instincts that still ended in her death and the knowledge that sometimes it has to be about more. It has to be about gaining information to save someone later- to save yourself later. )
What the hell will knowing do? Why does it matter if someone lies?
no subject
She's warring with those survival instincts that still ended in her death and the knowledge that sometimes it has to be about more. It has to be about gaining information to save someone later- to save yourself later. )
What the hell will knowing do? Why does it matter if someone lies?