[ idk man. her room used to be on the second floor and she would climb out the window and across the roof and down the porch supports and ziggy didn't give a fuck when strange boys climbed through the window with her. (god forbid anyone use the door like normal people. port haven just got her into a habit.) now that she's on the first floor and the ground is only a few feet away...

well, naturally, she has no one to invite to climb through her window. (cough jeff cough.)

she shrugs, letting her hand fall to pick at the grass. ] It's me, Will. Who is going to try to murder me in my bed? That's too easy and anticlimactic. Not to mention impossible. Especially with you around.

[ she points a strand of grass at him. ]

It's going to be overly-dramatic and showy, in public, to prove a point, to you. None of Hannibal's subtlety.

[ because honestly, there's no reason to kill abigail because she's abigail. if she's ever going to be killed in this world it's going to be to mock will or prove a point to will or something, anything about will. she has no bearing on this world, but she does have bearing on will. and she knows it. she knows that her importance in the grand scheme of things is only weighted on her importance to will.

she knows.

and, frankly, she doesn't much mind; being a shining light in will's life isn't the worst thing to die for. ]