[She looks up at him immediately, stopping in her tracks. Sharp, large violet eyes in a pale, oval shaped face, a high forehead and the nose a fraction too long in the bridge. There's defiance in those eyes, settled there like a well-worn garment.]
I'm not a child.
[Blunt. Unoffended, but pointed in her tone.]
There, now you know what I look like. Is that better?
no subject
I'm not a child.
[Blunt. Unoffended, but pointed in her tone.]
There, now you know what I look like. Is that better?