[Almost instinctively, she leans more firmly into him, as if subconsciously offering the same warmth of her own body heat that he and Alucard always complain about. It's less than needed in the New Orleans heat than it would be high above the ground in a plane, perhaps. But still, she offers it, and hangs on his every word.
It doesn't escape her notice, the way he's chosen to tell the story to her. You do this. You're fourteen years old. It's not the usual way that people tell stories, naturally, and it stands out just enough that she can't help but remark on it.]
no subject
[Almost instinctively, she leans more firmly into him, as if subconsciously offering the same warmth of her own body heat that he and Alucard always complain about. It's less than needed in the New Orleans heat than it would be high above the ground in a plane, perhaps. But still, she offers it, and hangs on his every word.
It doesn't escape her notice, the way he's chosen to tell the story to her. You do this. You're fourteen years old. It's not the usual way that people tell stories, naturally, and it stands out just enough that she can't help but remark on it.]
You tell stories like a Speaker.
[No, wait.]
No — like you're used to telling them to one.