EVIE
like love is a bad word
The cloud of breath around his mouth is borne from the snort of his denial, but the mist it summons around her own is entirely mirthful. She is far too restless after her run to drag her own feet, but their relationship is not unlike an endless game of tug-of-war. It wouldn’t feel the same to greet him any other way on the cusp of a fresh dawn. Belial is not nearly so lucky as she, and the mournful noises are given an understanding croon as he clambers out of the vessel to make room for her. But she forgets a moment later, distracted by Deimos’ hands as they guide her into the sled. Taken, as always, by the man’s presence and physicality. “It seems pretentious to choose my own name,” she laughs, a little awkwardly. Humbled, truly, by the fact that people call her anything more than her birth name. “It’s a complimentary name, at least. They could call me any variety of the grade school insults I’ve heard a thousand times. Best not tempt fate.” But amusement curls insistent on her mouth, having never internalized such taunts.
Her grin only widens, reckless, anticipatory, at his brief but meaningful warning. Her feet press and brace at the front of the sled, and her hands grip the side rails, grateful as ever for the quality gloves Halo produces. “Ready!” she calls, voice already threaded through with excitement.
