Evie
I'm growing up, but I'm not growing old
Taking the smooth stick from his hands, she twirls it idly immediately, never able to resist once something is in her grasp. It wouldn't surprise her at all if he intends it that way given she is already suspicious as to edible thing he's hiding from her - she knows it must be nearby, he'd never plan this without snacks, but he also likely knows she'd sneak as much of it as possible before they are actually supposed to eat it. Thus the stick-distraction.
"I can completely understand the terror," she laughs, though her commiseration is clear despite the amusement she takes from his retelling. "Though he likely trusted you to do it just as much as I do." Despite his own misgivings, Evie can think of no other man she'd trust to hold a newborn and keep it safe. "Now me? The terror is warranted. So I will gladly not be visiting yet." Though things are still weird between her and Cordelia (not for lack of Evie trying to comfort the woman, against her own desires at times) and she's not as close with Noah, so Evie likes to think she's safe.
Spotting the marshmallows the moment they emerge, she inhales a greedy gasp and vainly leans forward, though she can't get any closer with Micah firmly in her lap. She doesn't use her magic this time if only to preserve the beautiful quiet of the night, though she does childishly wiggle her fingers at the end out of her outstretched arm in a silent pleading motion as he begins construction of the sweet treat. Only to pause when he turns to her, blue eyes lit up by the string lights around the outside of the tent, arresting. Setting her hand on his thigh instead, she considers her answer.
Evie wishes, as she often does, that she could share how she feels with him the way an Attuned might. That he might feel the way the love and peace in her chest feels too big for her body, like the cosmos and aurora borealis trying to squeeze themselves into the boundaries of human cells. "Happy," she says instead, and hopes he can hear it in her voice even if he cannot feel it in her heart. "Happier than I ever thought I could be." And she knows it won't stay that way forever, but if this moment could, maybe that would be enough. "And you?"
"I can completely understand the terror," she laughs, though her commiseration is clear despite the amusement she takes from his retelling. "Though he likely trusted you to do it just as much as I do." Despite his own misgivings, Evie can think of no other man she'd trust to hold a newborn and keep it safe. "Now me? The terror is warranted. So I will gladly not be visiting yet." Though things are still weird between her and Cordelia (not for lack of Evie trying to comfort the woman, against her own desires at times) and she's not as close with Noah, so Evie likes to think she's safe.
Spotting the marshmallows the moment they emerge, she inhales a greedy gasp and vainly leans forward, though she can't get any closer with Micah firmly in her lap. She doesn't use her magic this time if only to preserve the beautiful quiet of the night, though she does childishly wiggle her fingers at the end out of her outstretched arm in a silent pleading motion as he begins construction of the sweet treat. Only to pause when he turns to her, blue eyes lit up by the string lights around the outside of the tent, arresting. Setting her hand on his thigh instead, she considers her answer.
Evie wishes, as she often does, that she could share how she feels with him the way an Attuned might. That he might feel the way the love and peace in her chest feels too big for her body, like the cosmos and aurora borealis trying to squeeze themselves into the boundaries of human cells. "Happy," she says instead, and hopes he can hear it in her voice even if he cannot feel it in her heart. "Happier than I ever thought I could be." And she knows it won't stay that way forever, but if this moment could, maybe that would be enough. "And you?"
And I hate to do anything that I've been told
