[RQ] the same kind of mercy

Evie

this floral patterned imagery makes me feel like hell
I know I'm not your type but I adore your vibe

Micah hardly gets up to retrieve his treat, clawing his way closer and earning a fond eyeroll from his bonded for his laziness. She would accuse Deimos of spoiling him, but she is equally spoiled if the snacks Deimos has promised are any indication, so she bites her tongue lest she lose out on them too swiftly. Not that it stops her from wrinkling her nose with a snorted laugh when his gusty exhale has her fringe billowing, tickling at her eyebrows and across the bridge of her nose. "You're lucky you're cute and have good snacks," she mutters through an ill-concealed smile, waiting until he has deposited them into her palm to say it and swiftly closing her fingers around them.

The cagey answer has her eyes riveting more firmly to his face while his own travel, allowing him the breadth of time he requires to answer while she chews on her own morsels. It's a blessing she swallows by time he answers, because her jaw drops open immediately, struck both dumb and speechless by the array of names he divulges so readily. A dead woman, a dead-to-Deimos man, and Vi's contradictory demigod. "I'm sorry, what?" Her voice goes strangled and pitched, completely flummoxed (and also immediately concerned for how her husband has managed to have this many concerning experiences in such a short timespan). "I - um - Maea, I guess?" It seems like the shortest answer, which is likely for the best given her bafflement.