She says it with all the coolness of what this city has made of her in that way, the way everyone compliments everything. She heard enough of it during her little private tour and any number of her hello's right behind them. Words that mean absolutely everything and absolutely nothing, that are the pride and price of the handshakes of business in this world.
And yet. There's a part of it that lingers. That doesn't let her look away from Luther, and the light-shadow-light shadow plays on the side of his face, and those eyes she's known in even pitch darkness since childhood. That wants it to be true. To believe. Wholeheartedly. Simply because Luther said it.
Because Luther never lies.
(He changes his mind. But he didn't lie. Once upon a time. )
"None of it important enough he thought he should go to himself?"
It's more than a little dismissive. She doesn't try to make it not be. Allison has never much been a fan of the man calling himself their father, and the last thing she'd ever want to even imply for a second is that she'd rather have looked up and found his cold, hard, scrutinizing gaze across the reception fall, but she doesn't like the idea of Luther playing lackey for him still either.
no subject
She says it with all the coolness of what this city has made of her in that way, the way everyone compliments everything. She heard enough of it during her little private tour and any number of her hello's right behind them. Words that mean absolutely everything and absolutely nothing, that are the pride and price of the handshakes of business in this world.
And yet. There's a part of it that lingers. That doesn't let her look away from Luther, and the light-shadow-light shadow plays on the side of his face, and those eyes she's known in even pitch darkness since childhood. That wants it to be true. To believe. Wholeheartedly. Simply because Luther said it.
Because Luther never lies.
(He changes his mind. But he didn't lie. Once upon a time. )
"None of it important enough he thought he should go to himself?"
It's more than a little dismissive. She doesn't try to make it not be. Allison has never much been a fan of the man calling himself their father, and the last thing she'd ever want to even imply for a second is that she'd rather have looked up and found his cold, hard, scrutinizing gaze across the reception fall, but she doesn't like the idea of Luther playing lackey for him still either.