Malta

[peace_inthe_violence]

This is a fairy tale of blood and bullets
It is the story of three men and three women and a small island between Italy and Africa.
This is a story about tragedy and pain, about healing and hope, but mostly it is about
love.

Comments

[notariver]

She was definitely finding her equilibrium again, and trading a bad joke for a bad joke was a good start there. It wasn't something she really made a habit of, but it wasn't like she'd just been going to let that opportunity sail by, either.

She also decided that she liked the fact that she'd actually gotten a smile, one she'd seen the edges and angles of when he was interacting with the others, but it was different when it was more or less at her instead.

"I was going to argue about being called 'kid', because usually I'm a fine young lady, but I guess in comparison, I'm definitely a kid. So I'll take it."

[transfuge]

"I won't use the term often." Booker didn't want her to feel insulted by the term. He meant it more as a teasing nickname not an actual comment on her age. She didn't like it so he would save it for when he absolutely needed to tease her.

He got up and slid his flask into his back pocket. "I guess I'll leave you to your gardening since you've figured out a lot of this."

Like not going back to her family and that they weren't out to hurt her. Booker felt she'd get through those first rocky weeks a lot better than he did.