(Oh, she is pissed. Super, duper, mega pissed, to the point her blood boils a little in her veins.)
/You can't be fucking serious, Quintavius. A date? Seriously? Is that seriously what you're thinking? Is that really what you think of me? Not that I'm upset, grieving, mourning, alone, scared, but that I'm—
On a date? Just because you jump to the next best thing at the first opportunity, that doesn't mean I do.
But you know what, if you can't think of a single nice way to comfort someone, then that's not on me, I don't know what to tell you. Don't even know why I even gave you that chance./
(Is this about the Julian situation anymore? Probably not.)
no subject
/You can't be fucking serious, Quintavius. A date? Seriously? Is that seriously what you're thinking? Is that really what you think of me? Not that I'm upset, grieving, mourning, alone, scared, but that I'm—
On a date? Just because you jump to the next best thing at the first opportunity, that doesn't mean I do.
But you know what, if you can't think of a single nice way to comfort someone, then that's not on me, I don't know what to tell you. Don't even know why I even gave you that chance./
(Is this about the Julian situation anymore? Probably not.)