Her body stood erect and her posture absurdly perfect with her palms facing the expanse of wall behind her. She raised her chin and stared at him with eyes that betrayed no emotion.
But he could see it. He could feel her nervous energy, tense and buzzing, like a poised arrow ready to cut through the now solid air. All he had to do was say a word, a simple choice: to lift a finger and let the arrow fly straight into his own neck.
"I'm glad to see you," he said.
She knew what he had not said, why he had not acted. A slight weariness passed over her face.
"I'm glad to hear it." Both mouths twitched with suppressed smiles. She knew he enjoyed her laughter and that this refusal to allow the tones to play for him was the smallest kind of torture she could bestow.
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