I won’t. I promise I won’t. Not until you ask it of me.
[ And she will. He knows. He’s asked this of so many speakers before her, lost so many friends to this fucking request even before he lost those same friends to shells and machine gun fire and executions. ]
I want to give you my Saint-Etienne. [ That probably means nothing to her. It may as well be a fancy french euphamism for something rude. It takes him a moment to gather the courage to clarify, and in the end it’s only the order to be truthful that allows him to. ] It’s a pistol, my old sidearm. I’ll show you how to fire it.
no subject
I won’t. I promise I won’t. Not until you ask it of me.
[ And she will. He knows. He’s asked this of so many speakers before her, lost so many friends to this fucking request even before he lost those same friends to shells and machine gun fire and executions. ]
I want to give you my Saint-Etienne. [ That probably means nothing to her. It may as well be a fancy french euphamism for something rude. It takes him a moment to gather the courage to clarify, and in the end it’s only the order to be truthful that allows him to. ] It’s a pistol, my old sidearm. I’ll show you how to fire it.