[He doesn't need her to confirm that, so she doesn't. Not now; not since the fire. Since she realized how dangerous it was to put herself in the middle of that many people. Actually tried to ask for help. She wasn't here for any reason except for this one, trying to piece together what he knew, and just how treacherous it made things.
She tries not to flinch when he mentions that her history might have crossed his desk. It's a possibility she can't entirely discount. Was it just when they managed to put her in the Academy? What about before? His hands obscure the folder he'd been reading, but for the moment she allows him that, and watches his face, his eyes, his expression. He still doesn't seem cruel, and maybe that's the worst lie of it all. Maybe it isn't.
He presses her, and she knows it's more a tactic than anything, giving him a weak point, or something to focus on, what she cared about. What scared her. But she doesn't back down, doesn't run this time -- this isn't the same sensation, those moments where it feels like he's crawling under her skin, where he's too nice and she doesn't entirely know how to handle it.]
Alright. [She smiles, but it's a sharp thing, wolfish and blade-edged, slight figure shifting to lean against the edge of the table as she watches him.] What do you know about Ivan Somodorov? Is that clear enough, Director?
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2017-12-31 03:53 am (UTC)She tries not to flinch when he mentions that her history might have crossed his desk. It's a possibility she can't entirely discount. Was it just when they managed to put her in the Academy? What about before? His hands obscure the folder he'd been reading, but for the moment she allows him that, and watches his face, his eyes, his expression. He still doesn't seem cruel, and maybe that's the worst lie of it all. Maybe it isn't.
He presses her, and she knows it's more a tactic than anything, giving him a weak point, or something to focus on, what she cared about. What scared her. But she doesn't back down, doesn't run this time -- this isn't the same sensation, those moments where it feels like he's crawling under her skin, where he's too nice and she doesn't entirely know how to handle it.]
Alright. [She smiles, but it's a sharp thing, wolfish and blade-edged, slight figure shifting to lean against the edge of the table as she watches him.] What do you know about Ivan Somodorov? Is that clear enough, Director?