Work Text:
Lacey had chosen this line of work. That didn’t mean she couldn’t be bitter about how few choices she had. Ribbon had taught her that. Sometimes the only thing people like them had left to themselves was the acrid taste of bitter experience. Her very existence had taught her that powerful men were not be trusted. Her work had taught her that no man at all, and very few women, could be trusted enough to give over the private parts of herself. She had learned that trust came in hundreds of degrees. She might trust a client to pay her, and indeed she had to, but never would she trust them to understand her. It was her sort, her kindred in a sense, and Ribbon most of all, that were all that she could trust. Even they could harm her, if she misjudged them, for some had swallowed so much and built up so much bitterness inside themselves they couldn’t help but spit its venom onto others. She held onto bitterness, but not to that degree, she hoped. She judged by what it had taught her, but, though relations had become a mire of cruel associations, it had not stopped her from caring. What she had with Ribbon was the easiest trust she had ever known. It was like their hearts touched.