“I’m not going to apologize, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”
Ana didn’t think it was possible for the fault lines on the blonde’s face to deepen any further into a frown, but they do.
“That’s not what I want.” Shannon seems miffed by that, as if she hadn’t realized the statement’s truth until she’d spoken it aloud.
Ana crouches by her sitting figure with her back pressed against the rock wall of the caves. It’s silent here, the sanctuary all but forgotten by the others. Just like the two of them; abandoned.
“And I’m not going to be your lapdog for the rest of eternity just because I shot you.”
“Pity. You’d look good in the collar.” There’s a pause; that isn’t really what she’d meant to say. “You know, I’m usually pretty good at getting what I want.”
Ana finally sits beside her in the dirt (things like that don’t really matter now), crossing her arms.
A smirk lights up Shannon’s face, the first she’s observed since she’d awoke here, her stomach aching and the tang of blood in the back of her throat.
“I guess we both suck. I know this isn’t where I want to be.”
Ana snorts, nodding her head to some unasked question about mortality and vendettas.
She hopes they don’t scratch rest in peace on her grave marker because she’d always hated irony.