EDREI
Edy’s grin widens when Ronin ’s hands clasp her shoulders, the soft torch‑light sliding off his twilight suit and catching the silver that curls up his lapel like a naughty thought. "Captain," she purrs, voice all velvet and mischief, "if I’m a sight for sore eyes, that makes two of us. You keep dressin’ like a star‑kissed snack and I’m gonna start rumours you won’t be able to kill, even with that sword of yours." She winks, flashing him a too-white wicked smile, but before she can start an ode to his cufflinks he’s already turning toward the voice that shatters her reunion. "Yeah, yeah, I'll catcha later."
Blue eyes catch hers, and as Isla ’s seafoam dress swirls closer on bare feet, Edy stretches her arms wide, curls bounding around her face like an untamed halo. "Doc! If it isn’t my favourite reason to fake medical emergencies." She sweeps Isla into a hug that smells of leather, salt, and trouble, pressing a scandalous kiss to the other woman’s cheek and just maybe thrusting her hips forward significantly more than is necessary. "Damn right I’m talkin’ about my dick," she murmurs against Isla’s ear, low enough for polite company to pretend they didn’t hear. "Frey’s finest aftermarket accessory. Actually, you should take a look. For, y'know, medical reasons."
But then, y'know, a crowd begins to form and Edy can't properly flirt with the Remedy. "I’ll hunt you down before sunrise—treat that as both a promise and a threat." She punctuates it with a playful snap of her teeth and pivots straight into the orbit of Mateo. Edy eyes him up and down, taking in his height (three inches shorter, nearly six when her heels are factored in), before she plants a hand on one hip, leather squeaking, and lets her other hand measure an invisible line above his head. "Those height requirements?" she drawls. "Purely for your safety. Long legs, long drop. But tell you what" her brows bounce, dark eyes glittering with invitation "—I won’t tell if you don’t."
Blue eyes catch hers, and as Isla ’s seafoam dress swirls closer on bare feet, Edy stretches her arms wide, curls bounding around her face like an untamed halo. "Doc! If it isn’t my favourite reason to fake medical emergencies." She sweeps Isla into a hug that smells of leather, salt, and trouble, pressing a scandalous kiss to the other woman’s cheek and just maybe thrusting her hips forward significantly more than is necessary. "Damn right I’m talkin’ about my dick," she murmurs against Isla’s ear, low enough for polite company to pretend they didn’t hear. "Frey’s finest aftermarket accessory. Actually, you should take a look. For, y'know, medical reasons."
But then, y'know, a crowd begins to form and Edy can't properly flirt with the Remedy. "I’ll hunt you down before sunrise—treat that as both a promise and a threat." She punctuates it with a playful snap of her teeth and pivots straight into the orbit of Mateo. Edy eyes him up and down, taking in his height (three inches shorter, nearly six when her heels are factored in), before she plants a hand on one hip, leather squeaking, and lets her other hand measure an invisible line above his head. "Those height requirements?" she drawls. "Purely for your safety. Long legs, long drop. But tell you what" her brows bounce, dark eyes glittering with invitation "—I won’t tell if you don’t."
"Go fuck yourself."
"Fuck me yourself, you coward."
"Fuck me yourself, you coward."
