Evie
His hurt - his reaction - would normally make her recoil, either defensive or guilty, but this time Evie meets his troubled gaze head on. "What else was there to see? A turned back has no expression or explanations to give, Hadama." How is it any more fair of him to expect her to give him the benefit of the doubt, when he had left them to the circling shark he professes such fear of? "You said it yourself - you don't turn your back on a hungry shark. But you did. And you left us with it." But maybe it's a cruelty, and a damning one at that, to try and say this now when he takes her hand so soon after. Evie clings to it as if it will somehow prevent him from changing his mind in the wake of her continuation. "Regardless of what you meant to do, or what I saw, or what either of us felt - it's a hurt I want to help heal." What good is her healer's heart if it cannot mend something as precious as this? "I hope that willingness is more meaningful than any assumptions we've both made." Because Evie doesn't want to hear more, selfishly. She's scared she might dig deep enough and find something she truly doesn't want to hear. Not if it will cost her one of the only friends she has.
Maybe that means she doesn't have much of a spine either, but she's stood up for herself against Talyson for the first time in years, so maybe it's more a matter of picking her battles. This - Hadama's hand in hers, hurt steeped between them like a bitter brew but both reaching for the other with open eyes and open hearts - it's a battle she's willing to wage. "Not so far back as the beginning," she corrects with a tired smile, squeezing his hand, "but we're both rather good at building things, wouldn't you say?" They wouldn't have crowns on their heads and kingdoms at their feet if they didn't. "There's been so much I've missed, I don't even know where to start. Why don't you tell me what comes to mind first?" As the waiter comes back around Evie keeps her hand in Hadama's, content to keep that tether of physicality for as long as she can have it.
Maybe that means she doesn't have much of a spine either, but she's stood up for herself against Talyson for the first time in years, so maybe it's more a matter of picking her battles. This - Hadama's hand in hers, hurt steeped between them like a bitter brew but both reaching for the other with open eyes and open hearts - it's a battle she's willing to wage. "Not so far back as the beginning," she corrects with a tired smile, squeezing his hand, "but we're both rather good at building things, wouldn't you say?" They wouldn't have crowns on their heads and kingdoms at their feet if they didn't. "There's been so much I've missed, I don't even know where to start. Why don't you tell me what comes to mind first?" As the waiter comes back around Evie keeps her hand in Hadama's, content to keep that tether of physicality for as long as she can have it.
listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness
like a heartbeat that drives you mad
like a heartbeat that drives you mad
