Redhawk Caldera Jet Song

The relief she felt after unloading a month's worth of shit at his feet was palpable.  She was sore from the yelling, and tension still lined her frame, but she felt lighter than she had in a long time now that it was all out and aired and no longer bottled up.  She let out a breath, tried to tug in some of the self-control she had let slip completely, and listened.

He was trying to control his tone, but she wished he wouldn't.  Whether he realized it or not, doing so cut out a lot of the picture - Fennec couldn't read his face, and his voice was all she had.  She could tell he was upset, but she couldn't tell in what way.  At least she could be satisfied in the fact that he'd let her finish and seemed to, for the most part, absorb it.

She wanted to cut in with an immediate insistence that he didn't need her permission.  She'd just told him she wanted him to say what he had to say... the whole of what he had to say.  But she'd also just finished telling him that he never bothered to ask what she wanted, and that finishing line was what made her bite the impulse back.  I'm not going to say all of that and not listen to why.  She said instead, finally speaking with an even voice again.  The floor was his.