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Date Posted: 09:27:36 12/08/09 Tue
Author: Natasha
Subject: Nor I. Sin City, do they call it?
In reply to: Ezra 's message, "Kinda like Vegas, no? Mind you, I've never been to Vegas." on 08:55:11 12/08/09 Tue

Relief flooded through her at his response--she could remain hidden--though it was tinged with something like regret. Did she want someone else to know her secret? To be honest, she didn't know. She was wrestling with thoughts and questions that she didn't know how to voice. She sensed that, maybe, on some level, he was too. When he introduced himself, it was her turn to be jolted out of her reverie. A name and a handshake. Simple gestures, but ones she hadn't considered. What harm could it be to tell him her real name? And it would certainly set a poor precedent if she went around lying to everyone she met in this town. "I'm Natasha," she replied, with barely a millisecond's hesitation evident in her voice. The handshake required somewhat more effort. Her body turned toward his, and as she extended her hand to shake his, her eyes met his for the first time. She tried to study him--not just his features, but whatever hints of personality and qualities were displayed. For however long this look would be sustained, she would absorb what she could about him. A worry dashed into her mind. This was probably what most would consider awkward, but, really, could this encounter get stranger than it already was? (The correct answer is 'yes,' but Natasha wasn't thinking creatively enough.) A second worry: what would he see in her face? Though she tried to guard herself closely, her face betrayed her; her feelings and thoughts tended to dance across her face with little concern to what Natasha was trying to hide. If eyes are the windows to our souls, Natasha's eyes are roadmaps.


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