VIOLENT DELIGHTS¹ ━━ John Murphy

𝖎𝖎𝖎. She Hates Me

𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖊

DRENCHED IN DAYLIGHT, Glass does not feel nearly enough like a young god. It's hard to, without the doom and gloom of midnight. But perhaps it's for the better - all sorts of phantoms come shrouded in evening mist, and she won't be making time for her ghosts anymore.

Riding Ghost through the Grounder camp, she reminds herself that she cannot afford any distractions. Lexa still wants to speak with her and Glass for once must be wary of her words - her world is made from fragile alliances and she won't see them crumble. Mainly because her own life hangs in the balance and really, Glass would rather not become one of the ghosts she oh-so-hates.

So she concentrates on Lexa instead of the other thing plaguing her mind. Murphy.

She doesn't want to think of what happened between them in the dark.

Definitley doesn't want to consider the way his fiery hands felt on her freezing skin or the clashing of his mouth against hers. Certainly she shouldn't recall how hard she had to bite her own lip to keep quiet and how obviously she'd never done anything they did do, nor anything they didn't do, while he seemed like he'd done it all.

Shoving away the memory fiercely, she grits her teeth. Along with it she tries to shove the enormous vulnerability she felt and the dizzying sensation of being exposed down to her rawest nerves. If she sees Murphy again, she isn't sure how she'll be able to keep from behaving like a fool.

From behaving like she did last night.

She cringes at the memory.

"So you've returned, natblida."

"So you have eyes," Glass returns to the Trikru warrior with a false smile. "Where is Lexa?"

"Heda is in her tent, discussing the komgeda's newest alliance with the ambassadors. It is not wise to disturb her right now."

"Good thing I'm not wise."

Letting go of Ghost's reigns, she ignores Indra's warning and pushes apart the spiderweb-like fabrics of beige, entering right in the midst of the meeting. Ambassadors turn to stare at her, seated across from one another at a long table of polished wood. Lexa sits at the head, not looking particularly surprised by the intrusion.

Doing a quick headcount, Glass frowns. Only eleven out of twelve ambassadors are present. There is no one here to represent Ice Nation.

"Where is Azgeda's ambassador?" She demands.

A few of the ambassadors look annoyed by her interruption of the meeting. One of them, a stocky woman with the Trishanakru symbols painted across her face, opens her mouth to say something, only for Lexa to silence her by raising a single hand.

"I have much to discuss with Glass," says Lexa coolly. "This meeting will reconvene in an hour."

Disgruntled, all eleven of them stand up. No one dares to mutter their discontent here in Lexa's tent, but Glass is willing to bet Ghost that there will be complaints aired as soon as they're out of earshot. Of course, that's not her problem. If Lexa feels confident enough to piss off all of her own ambassadors, than far be it from Glass to stop her.

"I was expecting you sooner," Lexa announces as soon as the last ambassador has left.

"I was held up," Glass says briskly, pushing away the phantom sensation of Murphy's fingers on her thighs. "But I see you've made yourself busy in my absence."