EVIE
I want your midnights
Evie hums softly to avoid incriminating herself any further, tongue pressing urgently to the roof of her mouth as if she could suffocate the words that press against her throat. Stifles the urge to just blurt out that she's one of them, that she understands because she is Abandoned. That he is not alone in his exile, she is merely protected by her years of enshrouding herself in the gossamer fabric of lies and suspended disbelief woven by her parents. Shackles instead of solitude. Part of her hates him for his freedom, for the way he complains about the loss and the way he suffered at their parents' hands. Because she lives a lie every day, and freedom is a laughable notion to her. The Gods would not be the ones to save her, and everyone else was dead or unreachable. Taking a shaky breath, she swallows down the confession. It has lived like a rock in her chest for her entire life, and she does not have the power to free it now. Wonders if she ever will, especially to him. Maybe on the day she dies, she thinks with a dark sort of amusement. And he'll look just as he does now, untouched by age and illness.
Time slips by faster than she would prefer, which is a first. But as Sam hesitantly tries to excuse himself, Evie only gives a halfhearted smirk, presses a kiss to her fingers and uses them to poke and push at Sam's face as if to push him into getting up. The closest she feels she can get to kissing his cheek as she might have if they were closer. "I know where the shop is, but tell me where you're living. I'll...I'll try to visit soon." It's a tentative connection, but one she is surprised to be glad to have established.
