I love one (1) Crazy Bitch.
“You should go,” Damar said, turning away from her.
Zatara blinked, momentarily dazed by
the coldness in his usually warm, rumbling voice. She was grateful that his
back was to her as she sat up, carefully slipping the mask of indifference into
place on her delicate features.
“Yes, that would probably be best,” she said cooly, brushing a few stray locks of hair from her face. She slipped from the bed and strode into the main living area, shimmying into her tight, rumpled dress.
She sat on the couch, strapping on her boots. She was determined to maintain a shred of her dignity and tilted her chin up when she noticed Corat enter the room in the periphery of her vision.
“Zatara.”
She felt the cushion shift beneath her as he settled himself next to her. The glass of kanar in his hand was nearly empty now.
“It was…” He paused, running a hand over the prominent folds that lined either side of his mouth. “It was good. I wish I was free.”
He reached out, ghosting his fingertips along the wide, smooth scales of her bare shoulder for a moment before she shrugged away.
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Zatara said, her voice quiet, but firm, as she fastened the last strap on her boots. Staring down at her lap, she ran her palms over her thighs, attempting to smooth out a particularly nasty crease in her dress.
“Well, I have said it.”
“Well, you also said it would be
best if I left now, and I think that would be more prudent.”
She rose from the couch with practiced placidity despite the gnawing, twisting of her stomach. Tossing her head, she gave him one last defiant glare before smoothing out the largest tangles of her hair with her long, pale fingers and moving towards the door. “Call your wife, Corat.”
