#Canidae (Tango|The Creature)

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@thecreatvre

The full on wailing had had the grace to wait until she’d made it back into HQ.  There’d been tears, of course, running freely throughout the reception–good thing the stylists had had the foresight to use waterproof mascara–but the shaking and the gasping and the keening she’d managed to resist.

Until now.  Now, she was curled on her bed, still in her funeral attire, though it didn’t look nearly as elegant with the way she was twisted in on herself.  Her hands gripped at her arms hard enough to leave bruises, like she was trying to physically hold herself together as the world fell apart, like she was afraid the force of her own sobs would tear her apart.  Not for the first time, though certainly the first at this level of emotion, she sounded like a child.

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✉

During the hiatus

Delivered [12:01 am]: Happy Birthday, Tango!

Unsent: I’m actually stateside right now.  I’ll see if I can come visit you.

Delivered [12:13 am]: Did you like the vegemite?

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