[It’s carefully tucked away, like everything Koby knows about her, little bits and pieces of a life Nami keeps locked up, unspoken about. He knows the urge, the need to keep it contained. He knows.]
Pictures, really? There are DESIGNS? Like an artform then, for real, not just for function. Does the kind of rope matter? Should I wear anything specific? What are the rules?
[A beat. Then:] You choose. I want you to choose. It’s Important that you choose. [That it isn’t his choice, that the control is gone, that’s the whole point. Surrender, like in Otherworld, like on the banks of the snowy river when she’d warm her hands on his pelt and nothing else in the world existed. That’s what he wants back.]
no subject
Pictures, really? There are DESIGNS?
Like an artform then, for real, not just for function. Does the kind of rope matter? Should I wear anything specific? What are the rules?
[A beat. Then:] You choose. I want you to choose. It’s
Important that you choose. [That it isn’t his choice, that the control is gone, that’s the whole point. Surrender, like in Otherworld, like on the banks of the snowy river when she’d warm her hands on his pelt and nothing else in the world existed. That’s what he wants back.]
I trust you.