[ And just like that, with that — sort of — confirmation, there's a surge of nervous energy that floods her whole body. A breathless fluttering in her chest, a buzzing in her fingertips, and Anathema has to set her communicator down for a second.
Maybe Sal doesn't know about the connotations here. Maybe Valentine's Day doesn't mean the same thing in the other woman's universe; maybe it's some kind of holiday where you fight others in close combat with your sword, or make a blood sacrifice and run anticlockwise around a hill. Who the hell knows!!
Or. The alternative. The one that makes her grin irrepressibly at her phone even though the other woman can't see her, and also think to herself: you fucking dummy, you watched Satan rise out of the earth, why does this make you nervous. ]
CLUTCHES MY FACE SORRY
Maybe Sal doesn't know about the connotations here. Maybe Valentine's Day doesn't mean the same thing in the other woman's universe; maybe it's some kind of holiday where you fight others in close combat with your sword, or make a blood sacrifice and run anticlockwise around a hill. Who the hell knows!!
Or. The alternative. The one that makes her grin irrepressibly at her phone even though the other woman can't see her, and also think to herself: you fucking dummy, you watched Satan rise out of the earth, why does this make you nervous. ]
Happy Valentine's Day, Salazanca.
You want to grab some dinner?