Maeve
Being in her line of work, she's seen all sorts of bodies. Some with burn scars covering majority of their skin. Knife wounds, claw marks, and everything in between. She had been with people who were missing fingers, toes, or whole limbs. Nothing phased her anymore. At some point, the scars stop defining the person and she's just left with them. It's the same right now with Adam. All she sees is him.
"Really? You would want to go to a party with little old me? My... I'm flattered," she purrs, giggling as she watches his lips quirk into something that might have been a grin if he committed to it. He doesn't. "I'd love to go. I'm not a big drinker myself, but I rather like dancing. Suppose we could find some sort of compromise." Whether these were just words or not were yet to be determined, but she thought she might actually like to go with him. As friends. He seems nice enough. Just a little tired and beat down. Maybe it could be good for them.
The bitterness in his tone is almost enough to sting. She doesn't take it personally. Instead she gives him an apologetic look, expression softening as she meets his tired gaze. "In my humble opinion, the gods are fucking dicks. Can't say I've ever had a reason to be fond of them," she huffs with a roll of her eyes, hoping to lighten the mood.
He's on the same track as her, flashing her a smile that's all teeth, but no less attractive. "Oh! Fangs and everything. Delicious." Maeve practically coos, reaching out to catch his chin and turn his head side to side gently as if giving him a once over before nodding. "Sexy and brooding indeed. A much better look if I do say so myself. One I tend to prefer," a wink punctuates her sentence as she lets her thumb brush across his bottom lip before returning her touch to his hair again. A safe place for both of them.
"Really? You would want to go to a party with little old me? My... I'm flattered," she purrs, giggling as she watches his lips quirk into something that might have been a grin if he committed to it. He doesn't. "I'd love to go. I'm not a big drinker myself, but I rather like dancing. Suppose we could find some sort of compromise." Whether these were just words or not were yet to be determined, but she thought she might actually like to go with him. As friends. He seems nice enough. Just a little tired and beat down. Maybe it could be good for them.
The bitterness in his tone is almost enough to sting. She doesn't take it personally. Instead she gives him an apologetic look, expression softening as she meets his tired gaze. "In my humble opinion, the gods are fucking dicks. Can't say I've ever had a reason to be fond of them," she huffs with a roll of her eyes, hoping to lighten the mood.
He's on the same track as her, flashing her a smile that's all teeth, but no less attractive. "Oh! Fangs and everything. Delicious." Maeve practically coos, reaching out to catch his chin and turn his head side to side gently as if giving him a once over before nodding. "Sexy and brooding indeed. A much better look if I do say so myself. One I tend to prefer," a wink punctuates her sentence as she lets her thumb brush across his bottom lip before returning her touch to his hair again. A safe place for both of them.
when you are not fed love on a silver spoon
you learn to lick it off of knives
you learn to lick it off of knives
