[ dutch isn't ill. she's angry and she's mad and hiding something pained and small and fragile underneath that anger. she's at a loss without johnny; he's been her moral compass and her gravity for so many years and she'd almost figured out how to be herself and a killjoy without him before, but she'd had d'avin then and the rac and a war to fight, a woman to hunt and kill, a purpose and a goal.
here, she doesn't have any of those things — and now, she doesn't even have johnny anymore, or alvis.
instead, she has dorian looping his arm with hers like he's worried she's going to fall (she won't, she's too good for that, really), offering to buy her something to eat. her stomach gives a quiet growl at the notion, and dutch lets out a sigh. ]
Hells. If you must.
[ she slants a long look at him. ] Think people'll be jealous? [ that the two of them are walking arm in arm, that is. not that dutch can't get a taste, that's hardly something to be jealous of. ]
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here, she doesn't have any of those things — and now, she doesn't even have johnny anymore, or alvis.
instead, she has dorian looping his arm with hers like he's worried she's going to fall (she won't, she's too good for that, really), offering to buy her something to eat. her stomach gives a quiet growl at the notion, and dutch lets out a sigh. ]
Hells. If you must.
[ she slants a long look at him. ] Think people'll be jealous? [ that the two of them are walking arm in arm, that is. not that dutch can't get a taste, that's hardly something to be jealous of. ]