He yanks too hard. A bootlace--brittle from the sun in the desert, now half-frozen--breaks, and he swears under his breath. He hates Orlais. One would think living somewhere for a decade would soften it, but no. He hates it.
"Thinking you're attractive and thinking you're a person aren't the same thing," he says without looking up, abandoning any pretense of untying the boots neatly and instead jerking at the laces until they loosen. "If you let him hurt you, I will punch him, and he will kill me."
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Date: 2016-07-10 05:38 am (UTC)"Thinking you're attractive and thinking you're a person aren't the same thing," he says without looking up, abandoning any pretense of untying the boots neatly and instead jerking at the laces until they loosen. "If you let him hurt you, I will punch him, and he will kill me."