revlon: (535)
π™Όπ™°πšπ™Άπ™°πšπ™΄πšƒ "π™Ώπ™΄π™Άπ™Άπšˆ" π™²π™°πšπšƒπ™΄πš ([personal profile] revlon) wrote in [community profile] meadowlarklogs 2019-06-18 02:15 pm (UTC)

[ She's never been operated on in her life. Sure, she's had bullets pulled out of her shoulder and been impaled, but that all seems relatively tame in comparison to technology being threaded through your mind. Peggy parts her lips to reply β€” not with such intimately morbid details, but to ask another question β€” when she's cut off by the crowd at the party.

Duty calls, her sympathetic smile seems to say. She knew their little respite together would be short-lived, but it was good to have, all the same. Peggy nods in understanding then catches his arm with a fleeting touch (barely enough to elicit the bond, but there is a flicker of warmth). ]


Before you go...

[ She polishes off the last slip of whiskey in her glass then sets it aside on spindly table. Hands now free, Peggy opens her evening bag and pulls out her gift: a single piece of chocolate. It's small β€” in her day, it would be one bonbon in a box of many β€” but that's not possible in this future. Still, she wonders if a young man brought up on Mars would have had chocolate at all. It's why she picked it. Chocolate was precious during the war, too. ]

It's not another drink, [ she's saying, as she holds it out to him. ] But happy birthday, Cain.

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