"Excuse me, excuse me... hey buddy, I'm walking here!" It was barely morning, and already the streets and walkways in Persephone were buzzing with activity and stuffed with people. Annabel was one of them, tucking her head low as she pushed her way through, attempting to clear a path for herself as she stormed away from the docks.
She had awoken before everyone else on the Hard Luck, made breakfast and left before anyone could say two words to her retreating backside. She just.. had to get away. Away from the ship, and from him. The pressure was getting to be even more insufferable, and she thought she was going to drown on dry land. Or go on a killing rampage. And while that was good for the soul and all, shedding blood this early was just a bad idea.
He had asked her. Jacob, that little worm had asked her to marry him. Just thinking about it gave her a nervous knot in the stomach, the one she got when she had mixed feelings. She loved him. But she hated some of the things he said to her.
"This mission to find your brother. You need to give it up."
But it was sometimes the only reason she got out of bed. The thought of finding Mal after all these years was the little light of hope she was clinging to.
"It's been six years already. He could be dead. He could be in jail."
She refused to believe it, and nearly slapped Jacob for even suggesting it. Dead. No. He survived the War; there was nothing in this 'verse that could kill him now.
Annabel shook her head, shaking away the lingering remains of the conversation as she stepped into the gunsmith's shop, the tiny jingle of bells marking her entrance. Her revolver needed cleaning, and she was in a mind to get something, too.
Yes, focus on errands. It'll keep you sane for now.
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