Sleepy Fox Hollow Where I thought I knew it all before I knew what love was

There: the outrage Wylla was expecting seemed to flare up in the heart of Mahler, and its brief flicker gave her enough strength to not flinch away. Wylla could reason away guilt if the other party was themselves roused to anger. Anger was an emotion she understood far better than shame and hurt and whatever this undignified feeling rising in her chest was.

So she stood taller as he spat words in a language she did not understand, with a little of that old challenging edge in her eyes. She could not stand toe-to-toe with the General on matters of the heart, for Wylla fled from her feelings and buried them in more negative displays, but in outrage she felt she could match him blow for blow. She wasn't sure what to feel and was desperate for anything less confusing than his abrupt confession to contend with.

He deflated in the end and the rage she hoped to meet head on did not come, and she was left feeling bereft of an outlet for her confused emotions. She blinked at him, stony as ever, removed from the demure thing she'd been just a moment before—after all, she was a little flattered down beneath all the bewilderment—and then sucked in a deep breath.

How, she ground out, dare you! She didn't even notice that he'd messed her name up with his silly accent again; she nurtured the flame in her chest, willing it to roar into an inferno that would consume this whole damned moment in time. Now she puffed up a little, looking every bit as affronted as she felt; it was better than the crushing guilt she was trying to keep down, anyway.

You can't just ... you can't! she spluttered, lashing her tail and tearing away from him to pace restlessly. You can't just stand there like that and say shit like that and talk about what I'm like as if nothing happened! You can't just say stuff like that!

You have to mean what you say, she thought, because she couldn't believe he wasn't cruelly fucking with her. She wouldn't believe him. How many times had she teased him to the point of humiliation, as he said? He must be trying to get her back now. You're supposed to hate me! she hissed, whirling with that old heat that had once chased him from her company all those months ago. For what she'd done. For what she hadn't done. She rounded on him with hackles flared and eyes blazing with a sharp demand: So say it! Tell me how you hate me and never want to see me again!