I carried my own ashes to the mountains
Oh, Deimos had heard the innuendo. If it were a playful exchange between Evie and himself, he would’ve readily enjoyed the rampant mischief. Here, with a stranger, he wasn’t going to partake in any such diversion or amusement. Instead, he took the opportunity to scrutinize for a moment with narrowed eyes, but when he couldn’t pinpoint a name to the face, he maneuvered onward, turning away from the tome but contorting the title and placement for future purposes.
That the other continued to follow was irritating, and he could already feel his spine growing taut and unyielding, a forged and steeled surface. “Maybe,” he gave in a huff and gruff reply, rounding the corner and hoping the younger man would simply disappear, moving into another row of books, rotating his head to read the spines.
That the other continued to follow was irritating, and he could already feel his spine growing taut and unyielding, a forged and steeled surface. “Maybe,” he gave in a huff and gruff reply, rounding the corner and hoping the younger man would simply disappear, moving into another row of books, rotating his head to read the spines.
DEIMOS
