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Ficlet: Naivety
Sep. 5th, 2018 08:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meridian_roseShe'd known that he'd disagree with her, but this tirade had been unexpected. For the 30 days of fiction meme Prompt # 6 write a scene with people talking, but without any actual dialog
She'd known that he'd disagree with her, but this tirade had been unexpected. He hadn't stopped yelling as he paced the room – now he leaned over the table and told her, in no uncertain terms, how disappointed he was in her.
She'd stayed seated this whole time, arms crossed defensively, but now her anger caught flame and she was on her feet, cursing at him in English and French alike – that got his attention, he looked stunned, actually stepped back to regard her with surprise.
She laid out the reasons she'd done it, she explained, point by point, ticking them off on her fingers, why it was the only logical choice. Finally, with contempt in her tone, she described some of the worst case scenarios had she done otherwise.
He sat, defeated, while she remained standing. He smoothed at his hair, straightened his tie. He wouldn't apologise, that was a given, but she hid a smile as, in a cool, measured tone, he conceded that there was no going back on it now. He began making suggestions, most of which she would ultimately disregard.
Still, she retook her seat and nodded, pretending she cared about his opinion, occasionally interrupting with a clarification when he – inevitably – got the facts wrong.
Five minutes later he seemed to have talked himself out – not to mention talked himself into believing he was in charge, more important than he really was – and dismissed her.
She missed his predecessor and hoped he might return soon and oust this jackass, before his naivety got someone killed.
She'd known that he'd disagree with her, but this tirade had been unexpected. He hadn't stopped yelling as he paced the room – now he leaned over the table and told her, in no uncertain terms, how disappointed he was in her.
She'd stayed seated this whole time, arms crossed defensively, but now her anger caught flame and she was on her feet, cursing at him in English and French alike – that got his attention, he looked stunned, actually stepped back to regard her with surprise.
She laid out the reasons she'd done it, she explained, point by point, ticking them off on her fingers, why it was the only logical choice. Finally, with contempt in her tone, she described some of the worst case scenarios had she done otherwise.
He sat, defeated, while she remained standing. He smoothed at his hair, straightened his tie. He wouldn't apologise, that was a given, but she hid a smile as, in a cool, measured tone, he conceded that there was no going back on it now. He began making suggestions, most of which she would ultimately disregard.
Still, she retook her seat and nodded, pretending she cared about his opinion, occasionally interrupting with a clarification when he – inevitably – got the facts wrong.
Five minutes later he seemed to have talked himself out – not to mention talked himself into believing he was in charge, more important than he really was – and dismissed her.
She missed his predecessor and hoped he might return soon and oust this jackass, before his naivety got someone killed.