Her Paul, her Paul, she's lost her Paul, and Elektra finds herself strangely jealous that Bernard gets to fight for his wife, when her husband died while she was making Bernard's goddamned bombs at the Ministry.
She manages to laugh hollowly at Aron's quip about going down the pub for a pint, but for now she's merely focused on getting through this, getting past this awful night, and getting them all past it with her.
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That's what she's felt like, this past week.
A fucking automaton.
Her Paul, her Paul, she's lost her Paul, and Elektra finds herself strangely jealous that Bernard gets to fight for his wife, when her husband died while she was making Bernard's goddamned bombs at the Ministry.
She manages to laugh hollowly at Aron's quip about going down the pub for a pint, but for now she's merely focused on getting through this, getting past this awful night, and getting them all past it with her.
There is no alternative.