@skuldxggxry | HERE

     If it were entirely possible,

  the skeleton looked to be on the verge of tears.

  His body was held almost forcefully strong,
  head tilted at an unfamiliar angle,
  fists clenched,
 teeth grit—-

           “– Valkyrie–”
   
Oh God, even his voice is torn.

    “If you.. mention one more time how HORRIBLY HURT my   p o o r  Bentley is..
   you won’t be living… very long– all right?
Good. Understood….
W–where’s my phone? I need to make a call.”

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            Valkyrie had trouble looking at him for too long; instead deciding to look at the Bentley again, surveying the damage.  Damage that thankfully, was not her fault– she hadn’t even been in the car when it happened..  But she was sure that somehow it would be traced back to her; each dent would be her fault and each scratch a nick would be something she would never be allowed to forget about….  She could see it in years to come still being brought up: ‘hey Skulduggery could I drive the Bentley?’  ‘Remember that time my Bentley almost died?  Yeah; you’re not driving it’…  It was going to haunt her forever.
              “…– Your phone’s in there,”  and instead of saying in the car or in the Bentley she instead chooses to gesture towards it, keeping her distance  from both the car and the man that owned it.

Tuesday 2 N.