[As Eight gets into the position she has prepared for him, Hayame keeps stock still, barely even breathing, her face a stony mask that, to begin with, shows no emotion. At least, for a short while, while she has a tremulous hold on things with the approaching footfalls in her ears.
She gives him no word, they're too close, instead slightly rolling her equine half inward to further obscure where he is bulkiest, the shoulders, swishing tail to drape over legs and her long mane likewise, pressing her cheek to the cell wall and then slouching, trying to affect the posture of a woman defeated, the woman in the cell from yesterday. But her attempts had led to nothing, and the sharpened scale knife she had planned to slit her belly open with is now instead tucked unbloodied into her orange uniform. Still close.
There was no honor in giving in to a fear of death and failing even at suicide. There was no honor in hiding from one's foes.
But she's afraid there was little honor in her any longer.
The guards come eventually, but not before Hayame has time to notice things. Like the warmth of Eight's body heat, or the feel of his narrow hip against her belly, head so close to her second chest- and it's a good thing she has her head away and down, just as hidden from them as the Class-0 student was, because rather than looking scared or morose...
Hayame is blushing.
Even through the guards' comments, "this thing still hasn't moved?", and even through the eventual sound of them moving on in their search.]
no subject
She gives him no word, they're too close, instead slightly rolling her equine half inward to further obscure where he is bulkiest, the shoulders, swishing tail to drape over legs and her long mane likewise, pressing her cheek to the cell wall and then slouching, trying to affect the posture of a woman defeated, the woman in the cell from yesterday. But her attempts had led to nothing, and the sharpened scale knife she had planned to slit her belly open with is now instead tucked unbloodied into her orange uniform. Still close.
There was no honor in giving in to a fear of death and failing even at suicide. There was no honor in hiding from one's foes.
But she's afraid there was little honor in her any longer.
The guards come eventually, but not before Hayame has time to notice things. Like the warmth of Eight's body heat, or the feel of his narrow hip against her belly, head so close to her second chest- and it's a good thing she has her head away and down, just as hidden from them as the Class-0 student was, because rather than looking scared or morose...
Hayame is blushing.
Even through the guards' comments, "this thing still hasn't moved?", and even through the eventual sound of them moving on in their search.]