And then her face twists, and her hands jerk up in a clumsy half-warding gesture in spite of Piotr's arm around her; the ballet slippers thump against her forearm, and if her fingers weren't tangled in the ribbons they would fall to the deck below.
"Can't," she sobs to the air, "don't lie. They come, they, they follow you and they wait until the walls never stop. Hit them and she'll break and she'll bleed and there are ears in the walls and they're laughing."
Her head snaps around and she stares at Piotr, eyes wide and tear-filled and burning. "Not gonna."
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A moment passes.
And then her face twists, and her hands jerk up in a clumsy half-warding gesture in spite of Piotr's arm around her; the ballet slippers thump against her forearm, and if her fingers weren't tangled in the ribbons they would fall to the deck below.
"Can't," she sobs to the air, "don't lie. They come, they, they follow you and they wait until the walls never stop. Hit them and she'll break and she'll bleed and there are ears in the walls and they're laughing."
Her head snaps around and she stares at Piotr, eyes wide and tear-filled and burning. "Not gonna."