If she'd doubted before that it was him, she was certain now. The accent gave him away and the scars, the marks, were only further proof. That, at least, assuaged the weirdness of it a little, the twinge of bewilderment that rose up when she realized just how pleased she was by what he'd said. Underneath the girl, it was still Mathias, after all. That made it alright. Even if it makes me a sap at the same time.
Tentative, she reached out, brushing her fingers over his palms with a small, involuntary shiver. "Three years here," she said, "and you'd think I'd start to understand this place. I still don't." She paused, drew her hands back, looked up. "You want to come in? Sit down before I get a neckache?"
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Date: 2009-01-18 12:42 am (UTC)Tentative, she reached out, brushing her fingers over his palms with a small, involuntary shiver. "Three years here," she said, "and you'd think I'd start to understand this place. I still don't." She paused, drew her hands back, looked up. "You want to come in? Sit down before I get a neckache?"