Evening on the island and Laura hasn't yet figured a way outta this joint. It had taken a couple days before the idea of it had braced her but good. She's better off here, at least for the moment, she knows that; there aren't many better ways to lie dormy than to disappear completely, but this wasn't what she had in mind for a clean sneak when she
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Lovely. Absolutely lovely. With sarcasm, of course.
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After a moment, she settles back, sliding her gams a few inches outta his way. "Play something for me?" she asks, smiling, paws in her lap. "I've clearly missed an opportunity in the cultural wasteland I so recently called home."
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But now, it's this unending silence.
He offers her an apologetic smile. "I'd much rather hear you play."
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Blinking slowly, she watched him, half-smiling. "What's your story, Peter?" She began to play, obliging, simple chords beneath her words, the opening of 'The Sun Whose Rays Are All Ablaze.' She will not think of Brendan. "Something has you spooked and I can't figure it at all."
It doesn't occur to Laura that maybe it ain't her rap to be poking.
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