[se] the poems we write

Evie

Come rest your bones next to me
And toss all your thoughts out to the sea

Evie watches him between glancing down at her notebook, grinning sharply at his wrinkled nose and protruding tongue or fondly observing the way he shakes and presses on various hinges to ensure their safety. His pause makes her do the same, unsure what has caught his ear among them offerings and willing to wait out the time it takes for him to consider.

The return he gives is certain, solid, with a slightly different sound. Evie hums, rolling it on her tongue. "Erebos. I like the 'o' sound more actually. Feels newer, but still regal like yours." Not something so archaic as the ancient figure with the name she'd once read in one of Sam's books; never the type of material she was inclined to pick up herself. "You seem to like that one a lot. Top of the list for now?" She shoots him a grin, happy to do so but also poking fun at the other lackluster options she'd flung his way.

"Evelyn and Evie are much simpler than Deimos. The only E names I can think that match it would be plain, like Elliot." So perhaps that's a bit of a dead end. E names seem to fit better with Deimos' style name. "Emmett? Elias? Ezekiel?" Her pencil taps against her lip as she shoots them out, choosing only ones she's already partial to in order to see if they hold a candle to their current choice.

I'll pull up each of our anchors
So we can get lost, you and me