She had thought that perhaps sleep would wash away the dismal memories from before. That sugar-coated dreams could somehow glaze reality real enough that it would be insignificant. After the evening birds had roused her awake from her glum sleep, Nicoleta came to realize that she was staring at her hands at first--two pale and cold hands. Hands that might not ever touch His hands in Heaven. What is an assassin, other than a poor vessel trying to imitate God's powers? It was too much of a troublesome question to answer. Therefore she pushed it aside and changed her clothes as she morbidly thought about other unimportant things. Ah, and suddenly, she remembered that she was running low on poison
( ... )
"Nicoleta, ah- My Nico, my dear friend! Wait a moment while I-" He'd leapt from his dubious staging atop a rather worn and molded stepping stool, placing the beaker he had immediately adopted after eliminating the reject delicately on the nearest steady surface available.
All, of course, to wade through labeled piles of various papers to drape an arm across his visitor's shoulders and press an affectionate kiss to her cheek. A coarse sensation- ever did Mihailo forget the razor stashed away in his lavatory- yet also a welcome one. "There now- how is my sora mea? I can assure you, the horse was not my aim. My neighbor, however, would have been a prize indeed!"
Grinning broadly, he smoothed the frayed wisps of hair curling around Nicoleta's ears. "I take it that much to my misfortune, this is another visit on business rather than for pleasure?"
She couldn't help but smile--the kiss rather tickled her cheek, so much that she forgot to return the gesture. "That's a very good way to make enemies, dragul. And also a horrible thing to do to your grass--what if it mutates?" There was a very stern expression indeed, but any man who knows her well would have figured that she was joking by the ways her eyes sparkled.
A pressed her lips and formed a small half-smile, trying very hard to revert back to the nonchalant expression from before. Nicoleta kept her hands to herself; more specifically, she had her arms folded. "Da, actually I've run out of poison and I must buy more... in case any trouble comes along, you see. My last attempt didn't go as smoothly because I forgot to refill..."
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"Nicoleta, ah- My Nico, my dear friend! Wait a moment while I-" He'd leapt from his dubious staging atop a rather worn and molded stepping stool, placing the beaker he had immediately adopted after eliminating the reject delicately on the nearest steady surface available.
All, of course, to wade through labeled piles of various papers to drape an arm across his visitor's shoulders and press an affectionate kiss to her cheek. A coarse sensation- ever did Mihailo forget the razor stashed away in his lavatory- yet also a welcome one. "There now- how is my sora mea? I can assure you, the horse was not my aim. My neighbor, however, would have been a prize indeed!"
Grinning broadly, he smoothed the frayed wisps of hair curling around Nicoleta's ears. "I take it that much to my misfortune, this is another visit on business rather than for pleasure?"
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A pressed her lips and formed a small half-smile, trying very hard to revert back to the nonchalant expression from before. Nicoleta kept her hands to herself; more specifically, she had her arms folded. "Da, actually I've run out of poison and I must buy more... in case any trouble comes along, you see. My last attempt didn't go as smoothly because I forgot to refill..."
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