Maeve
A dark brow arches, clearly not convinced as he shows off his leg, pointing out a mark that barely constitutes as a bruise. Maeve reaches out, poking the discolored skin and clicking her tongue, "How do you know that's from me? You've literally run into the little coffee table we got at least once a night." She retorts, shaking her head as she turns her attention back to her portion of the sandcastle. "Uh, yeah, you do. Make my fucking bones rattle with how loud it is." Maeve grins over at him, daring him to argue more on the topic.
Her grin only grows as she looks over at him, "Yeah because you always put it on my plate and insist on taking the one pancake I mess up when I try to flip them. That's your own fault." A laugh bubbles up in her chest as she meets his gaze, expression softening as the moment settles over them. "I like that you always give me the pretty pancake and that you put the kettle on as soon as I wake up." Weren't they supposed to be being mean to each other? Maeve has already forgotten that little game, too busy thinking about all the things he does that she loves. Can he really blame her?
Her grin only grows as she looks over at him, "Yeah because you always put it on my plate and insist on taking the one pancake I mess up when I try to flip them. That's your own fault." A laugh bubbles up in her chest as she meets his gaze, expression softening as the moment settles over them. "I like that you always give me the pretty pancake and that you put the kettle on as soon as I wake up." Weren't they supposed to be being mean to each other? Maeve has already forgotten that little game, too busy thinking about all the things he does that she loves. Can he really blame her?
the only heaven I'll be sent to
is when I'm along with you
is when I'm along with you
