Of course she knew how strong he was, physically, even if it didn't register as a reason for him to pull away from her. His posture did tell her it wasn't out of rejection or anger, however. Pippa would normally settle for running a hand down his back and pressing a kiss to his shoulder; this situation wasn't going to find her offering that sort of comfort. Not when she was trying to brace herself for the worst.
She hadn't know of Larch's visit to Last Call, by that point, she'd been so close to death's door that her memories were a blur of pain and confusion. She was not surprised though. The bastard had been playing a sick game of torment with more than one victim. She knew he enjoyed using psychological games to hurt Rory just as he resorted to physical violence with her.
Still, this didn't make any sense to her. The monster went to the bar, how was that justification for murder? Was Rory's performance--oh, dear God. Pippa stiffened in realization. There was a burst of anger that she checked and stifled immediately: he had been singing and entertaining a crowd as if nothing were wrong while she lay in absolute filth and agony, dying. It was irrational, she told herself. Irrational and unfair. Right on the heel of that thought was one even more disturbing. She knew about her puca lover and the thrill, for a lack of a better word, he got from performing for a crowd. What must he have felt from someone as purely evil as Larch, it couldn't have been the same thing he felt from the people who came to appreciate his music, could it?
And still, Pippa couldn't see the justification. Didn't want to accept that Rory Stone could be as cold-blooded and cruel as John Larch, even if she knew it was true. He killed the man, killed him or was party to killing him. He was no better than the monster that destroyed her life. And she loved him.
This was why she ran. She was frightened of him, yes, but also herself.
"...I don't understand, Ro. What are you saying?" Is there an explanation that would make this all better? Put her at ease?
no subject
She hadn't know of Larch's visit to Last Call, by that point, she'd been so close to death's door that her memories were a blur of pain and confusion. She was not surprised though. The bastard had been playing a sick game of torment with more than one victim. She knew he enjoyed using psychological games to hurt Rory just as he resorted to physical violence with her.
Still, this didn't make any sense to her. The monster went to the bar, how was that justification for murder? Was Rory's performance--oh, dear God. Pippa stiffened in realization. There was a burst of anger that she checked and stifled immediately: he had been singing and entertaining a crowd as if nothing were wrong while she lay in absolute filth and agony, dying. It was irrational, she told herself. Irrational and unfair. Right on the heel of that thought was one even more disturbing. She knew about her puca lover and the thrill, for a lack of a better word, he got from performing for a crowd. What must he have felt from someone as purely evil as Larch, it couldn't have been the same thing he felt from the people who came to appreciate his music, could it?
And still, Pippa couldn't see the justification. Didn't want to accept that Rory Stone could be as cold-blooded and cruel as John Larch, even if she knew it was true. He killed the man, killed him or was party to killing him. He was no better than the monster that destroyed her life. And she loved him.
This was why she ran. She was frightened of him, yes, but also herself.
"...I don't understand, Ro. What are you saying?" Is there an explanation that would make this all better? Put her at ease?