I think I can manage being collateral damage
Everest hummed a note of approval at the feel of Isla melting against his side, his body instinctively curving toward her like a compass needle drawn north. He exhaled a quiet laugh as her fingers slipped into his back pocket, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, you know," he murmured, accepting the offered wine with a lingering brush of fingers against hers, "—wandered around the market. I thought about stopping by the Dusklight first, but I wasn't in the mood to be propositioned by anyone I used to study with."
Lifting the glass, he swirled the deep red liquid absently before taking a sip, his eyes flicking over Isla’s face as if he were still convincing himself she was really here. "You're right,” he said with a satisfied hum, tipping the rim of the glass toward her in acknowledgment. "It is good." But not nearly as intoxicating as the scent of her, or the way her body fit against him like something fated, but not bad either.
Her question pulled his gaze toward the birthday boy, watching Astaroth endure the enthusiastic onslaught of well-wishers. Everest tilted his head, considering. "No,.. I don’t think I’d be into this sort of thing," he admitted, voice laced with a wry amusement. "A surprise party for me would probably require a few more fake smiles than I have the capacity to give." He shrugged. "Then again if you were the only one in attendance..." His fingers flexed at her hip, pressing her closer, and the glint in his eye suggested all the implications he left unsaid.
"I'd be nothing but delighted." He added leaning in so his lips barely brushed the shell of her ear, his breath warm against her skin, and though he straightened a moment later, there was something satisfied in the way he rolled his shoulders; like the tension of the past weeks had finally begun to unravel. "So tell me," he continued, shifting to let his free hand stroke absently along the dip of her spine. "How long do we have to stand here smiling at Asta before I can steal you away for something a little less… social?"
Lifting the glass, he swirled the deep red liquid absently before taking a sip, his eyes flicking over Isla’s face as if he were still convincing himself she was really here. "You're right,” he said with a satisfied hum, tipping the rim of the glass toward her in acknowledgment. "It is good." But not nearly as intoxicating as the scent of her, or the way her body fit against him like something fated, but not bad either.
Her question pulled his gaze toward the birthday boy, watching Astaroth endure the enthusiastic onslaught of well-wishers. Everest tilted his head, considering. "No,.. I don’t think I’d be into this sort of thing," he admitted, voice laced with a wry amusement. "A surprise party for me would probably require a few more fake smiles than I have the capacity to give." He shrugged. "Then again if you were the only one in attendance..." His fingers flexed at her hip, pressing her closer, and the glint in his eye suggested all the implications he left unsaid.
"I'd be nothing but delighted." He added leaning in so his lips barely brushed the shell of her ear, his breath warm against her skin, and though he straightened a moment later, there was something satisfied in the way he rolled his shoulders; like the tension of the past weeks had finally begun to unravel. "So tell me," he continued, shifting to let his free hand stroke absently along the dip of her spine. "How long do we have to stand here smiling at Asta before I can steal you away for something a little less… social?"
Even if I had to lose you to know you I'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through
