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stumblcd:

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          ( It didn’t help. All he had was his sincerity, and it was useless, the woman too far gone, too broken herself, too… haunted, to accept an honest apology. But it was more than that. She was more than that, and he should’ve seen it, should’ve picked up on it sooner, the second he’d picked up on her. But no ——– it took a great display of her strength to show exactly what she was capable of.

          He hadn’t fully adjusted to the lack of his legs once more. The first time around, he hadn’t learned how to defend himself in an emergency. This, his fate being entirely in the hands of a woman like her, so livid, almost crazed ——– he would define it as an emergency. To know he had nothing on her, couldn’t use his ability to save himself without potentially endangering him more, in the long run…

          He hadn’t felt fear in such a long time. Real, actual fear. The kind you get from growing up with a boy who turned you into his personal punching bag. Who screwed you over at every chance he got. The kind of fear you had to bottle up, because you had no one you could tell. The kind of fear covered up by flimsy excuses of clumsy behaviour.

          His hand was shaking, trembling violently as he clung to the arm of his chair. Well, look at that. He was nine years old again. )

          “ It was an ACCIDENT——– I didn’t intend——– please put me down, I—- I can’t THINK! “

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          the man, his wheelchair – lifting both from the ground & holding them against the wall doesn’t even necessitate mild effort. while she might not be the strongest freak this world has to offer, the meager weight suspended feels like little more than a paperweight. a chatty, invasive, frantic one, but a paperweight nonetheless. breaking him at the first sign of hostility is an easy enough thing for her to accomplish, physically speaking, of course. if his abilities are anything kilgrave’s, though, then it won’t be as simple as that. 

          maybe it’s a terrifying thing to admit it, but she’s got to tackle the fact head-on: this man’s power could could very well be a more potent variation of what dear old kevin can do. at the very least, he doesn’t seem like a sociopath – that, if nothing else, is able to put her mind just a bit more at ease. muscles tense, pulled taut beneath fair tinted skin, she cautiously lets the wheels of his chair touch the ground. 

          but this, by no means, indicates any level of trust towards him. no one capable of delving into people’s minds & tugging on their strings like a marionette can ever be truly trusted. that sort of control is far too seductive; she’s experienced it first hand. pushing aside whatever traumas afflict her, jessica submerges herself in protocol. attempts to find relief through veiling her broken parts with elements of her professional job.

          she keeps her hands on the arms of his wheelchair, leaned in towards him to keep him from forgetting she’s serious. “ who are you? “ she asks directly, staring him dead in the eye, demonstrating both strength & resilience in the face of shit she doesn’t understand. 

  1. stumblcd-blog reblogged this from akaknightress-blog
  2. akaknightress-blog reblogged this from stumblcd-blog and added:
    bringing out the worst in people also means knowing when someone is lying. picking up the subtle whiffs of bullshit in...
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