[That question. That is what he asks after all this? It starts small, a twitch of an almost smile, almost snarl at her lip. It curls up her throat and she giggles, but it tastes like poison and sounds just as acidic, even as it for once, turns to a horribly bitter laugh. One that she has to turn her head to the side to cover with a hand, but Atem would still see the flash of pointed teeth and forked tongue she tries so hard to hide.
After a moment she looks back at him. And her face is perfectly composed, a porcelain marvel, but her eyes are wounded with a deep sort of hurt.]
No.
[Because she is alone. Like she always has been. Like she is meant to be.]
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After a moment she looks back at him. And her face is perfectly composed, a porcelain marvel, but her eyes are wounded with a deep sort of hurt.]
No.
[Because she is alone. Like she always has been. Like she is meant to be.]