Characters: Emma Pillsbury and you! And you! You, too.
Setting/Location: Laundry room
Date & Time: Day 4, late morning
Warnings: None so far, unless someone decides to walk in naked
Summary: Emma is going to get a basin all to herself, dammit!
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Underneeeath your clothes, there's an endless storyyy~ )
Abandoning any sort of politeness, Emma quickly shifted to put the basin between them, and kind of half crouched behind it. Oh God, he was going to kill her because she wouldn't share her basin with him! Or maybe she'd taken his favorite one? Oh God, that was probably it. This was a bad idea--she knew it was a bad idea! She should've just come late at night and jammed the door shut like she was going to do in the first place. She never wanted to try being assertive again. Not if it was going to kill her!
"I'm, I'm sorry! I-If this is your basin, I'll move to another one! I can, um, I can get my clothes just as clean in different one!" Emma held up her hands, simultaneously trying to show she was surrendering and also wanted him to remain calm. "J-Just, please, don't mess up my clothes!"
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He wasn't going to hurt her. He didn't mean anything by it. It was a totally innocent topic. Why did things always have to be so damn complicated?
"Look-- you don't have to do that." He took a step backward, holding up his hand. Nothing in his pockets, no tricks up his sleeve. See? "I'm not even armed--and I don't mean that as a pun. I was just asking about doing the laundry 'cause I can't do it, like I said. Not with one hand. You can see for yourself what's up with the other one." He rolled his eyes, not because he blamed her, but because this situation was suddenly a damn frustrating one. "Just come out from behind that thing. Believe me, if I wanted to hurt you--which I don't--it wouldn't even help you, anyway."
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Emma hardly heard him as he kept speaking, and her eyes darted around as she looked towards the exit and for some possible weapons. The only idea that was coming to her was to flick some water in his face and make a run for it, but that would probably mean getting clawed in the back. Eurgh, bad idea. Maybe soap in the eyes? Yeah, that was a possibility. At least that burned.
However, before she could even try to make a heroic escape, his last sentence finally caught her attention. She relaxed, if only slightly, but didn't move from her crouching position behind the basin. Hesitantly, she asked, "Are you...are you sure? You're not trying t-to, um, to trick me are you?"
Yeah, right. Like someone trying to kill you would tell you that, she muttered mentally. Shaking her head a little, she then said, "You just, er, only want help?"
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