He starts talking, and a number of things fly through her mind.
The fight.
The bruises.
The moonshine.
The kiss.
Her panic abates, however, as he goes on and she notices how twitchy he is. She'd expect anger, or suspicion, or frustration, but he doesn't seem to be any of those things.
However, when he gestures at her body she quickly becomes all three. She goes still.
Rising to her feet, she turns to face him, leaning back against the table.
"About my what?"
There's a chill in her eyes, and her voice leaves no room for discussion.
You're going to have to spell it out for her, Tommy. Every. Single. Word.
no subject
The fight.
The bruises.
The moonshine.
The kiss.
Her panic abates, however, as he goes on and she notices how twitchy he is. She'd expect anger, or suspicion, or frustration, but he doesn't seem to be any of those things.
However, when he gestures at her body she quickly becomes all three. She goes still.
Rising to her feet, she turns to face him, leaning back against the table.
"About my what?"
There's a chill in her eyes, and her voice leaves no room for discussion.
You're going to have to spell it out for her, Tommy. Every. Single. Word.