I so clearly remember resisting the engagement of unpleasantries, not very long ago at all. The time isn't what changed, but the events... leaving an indelible mark on me. You can see it easily before I've put my leg on. Hah! Strange, that. And yet I love it. The smooth material, the glimmering metallic inlay, the secret compartment that holds a water pistol and a bicycle pump. Unintimidating to describe, but to be on the receiving end of one's forceful bluster... you might end up needing the life-preserving fluid of the other.
My leg. My guns. My car. I adore them. They're understated, elegant, powerful. I'm falling in love with the glamour of this life. I'm glad of the danger. Is this what Natalie feels? Was this the thing she was chasing all this time? Though it be a shade of madness, I think I finally understand.