Ronan arched his brow at her flippant laughter. Makara's optimism was the opposite of infectious, it was grating, somehow worse than the grains of sand that scratched at his eyes when the wind picked up. Was that how she did it, held it all at arms length and pretended she didn't care? It felt like he was watching a performance; though no doubt she was intentionally making digs at him, it felt more than that. Not quite so pointed as denial or that she was lying to herself, but something close, a level of self awareness Ronan would likely never achieve.
She was tiring to be around, emotional labour was the worst kinda labour. And the fact she'd willing put herself through that to deal with a family she herself admitted was difficult?
"Not the word I'd use. Naive, more like it." And more than that, he hated he'd been dragged into a conversation about detangling the complex mess of her family unit. Felt like his nose was being rubbed into it; though she made barbed comments she didn't strike him as being that insensitive.
They had only met just twice, and she was already overly familiar in a way that was biting. Not an old friend, but a nuisance.
"Don't you ever get tired of the sound of your voice?"Now he was just being mean. Juvenile, even and he knew it too. She just talked so much.
![[Image: PzMsxDx.png]](https://i.imgur.com/PzMsxDx.png)
