SW

ʜᴀʀʟᴇᴇɴ:

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   ❖ —– “Huh?” 

    Her hand snaps back to her side - having been stretched out - a hair’s breadth from the sculpture he had told her not to touch. 

   “Wasn’t touchin’ nothin’.” She responded, petulantly, and - technically - honestly. She looked back to the statue, to its beady eyes - that looked if you asked her (no one had) like cameras and stuck her tongue out at them. 

            👑 –––  I’m sure, ” Ignatius replied, lips pressed into a thin, disbelieving line that his tone matched, even if his words did not. He was not so blind as to have missed her reaching for the piece, even if she had pulled her hand away at the last moment.  It is simply cautionary advice. Mr. Cobblepot does not take kindly to those who leave fingerprints on his possessions.

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              With a purposefulness in his step, he continued on past the sculpture, intending for her to follow behind. It would be best if she could get to their final destination faster and avoid being tempted to touch anything else she wasn’t supposed to.  If you would, ma’am… Come right this way.

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