[She has trouble making eye contact, torn between being recognized and the tar creeping up the back of her throat--(a delusion. A delusion from when she had nearly lost her mind, she had been so certain that the rotting pieces of her mind were dripping down her throat, filling up her empty chest cavity where the heart no longer beat and the soul had long since fled. She imagines that it creeps back up to strangle her sometimes.) It's somewhat hoarse when she murmurs,]
The mind is the most attractive part of a person. The rest is inconsequential. Forgettable.
[And her mind was... not as sharp as it could be. She longed for perfect, for superior, but all she found were limitations and she cut herself on them, duly.
(It's Blonde, who has looked after her. He watches, reacts when she starts curl inwards, although neither of them will admit that's what he's doing when he puts his fingers into her hair. It's still not enough. She still won't ask for his help beyond borrowing his skin.)]
too early;
The mind is the most attractive part of a person. The rest is inconsequential. Forgettable.
[And her mind was... not as sharp as it could be. She longed for perfect, for superior, but all she found were limitations and she cut herself on them, duly.
(It's Blonde, who has looked after her. He watches, reacts when she starts curl inwards, although neither of them will admit that's what he's doing when he puts his fingers into her hair. It's still not enough. She still won't ask for his help beyond borrowing his skin.)]