Evie
Did you ever love her? Do you know?
It is difficult not to feel selfish, needing his protection and comfort in his own home after she’d deigned to show up without warning, but Evie knows she would do much the same in his shoes. It’s okay to lean on him, and so she doesn’t stop herself from edging closer herself, allowing thighs to touch and fingers to intertwine. Evie had known she would never be capable of ensuring everyone liked her, but Talyson has been so loyal to Deimos, effectively within an inner circle of one was to be drawn around the constituents of Halo. It feels like a dagger through the back of her ribs, cruelly struck from an intimately close vantage point.
She shrugs helplessly at his efforts to narrow down reasonings, inspirations. “Maybe? I barely know him, honestly.” They’d spoken all of a handful of words to one another, and all before she’d been voted in. It is unfair to have these stones cast against her, especially with comparisons to someone who hurt Evie deeply in her own time, and for what? “Maybe he’s just defensive of you, if he said I was seducing you,” she offers, uncertain of any other lines to draw with so little to work with.
It’s far from a resolution. Inaction feels acrid on her tongue, like defeat, but if Deimos’ mind can do no more than agree with her own, Evie knows there is no other solution. At least not one that would truly fix things. “I don’t want this to ruin your friendship with him,” she admits softly, squeezing his hand in the quiet. “I know you won’t sit by if he disparages me blatantly, but I don’t want you to lose him because of me. Or, well, him technically - it still feels like me when I’m involved.” Her tongue is thick and clumsy with the words, admittedly, but she trusts him to understand her intent. It feels strange to ask him to turn even a partial blind eye to Talyson’s treatment of her, but Evie cares more for Deimos having friends and loved ones than she does being defended.
She shrugs helplessly at his efforts to narrow down reasonings, inspirations. “Maybe? I barely know him, honestly.” They’d spoken all of a handful of words to one another, and all before she’d been voted in. It is unfair to have these stones cast against her, especially with comparisons to someone who hurt Evie deeply in her own time, and for what? “Maybe he’s just defensive of you, if he said I was seducing you,” she offers, uncertain of any other lines to draw with so little to work with.
It’s far from a resolution. Inaction feels acrid on her tongue, like defeat, but if Deimos’ mind can do no more than agree with her own, Evie knows there is no other solution. At least not one that would truly fix things. “I don’t want this to ruin your friendship with him,” she admits softly, squeezing his hand in the quiet. “I know you won’t sit by if he disparages me blatantly, but I don’t want you to lose him because of me. Or, well, him technically - it still feels like me when I’m involved.” Her tongue is thick and clumsy with the words, admittedly, but she trusts him to understand her intent. It feels strange to ask him to turn even a partial blind eye to Talyson’s treatment of her, but Evie cares more for Deimos having friends and loved ones than she does being defended.
Or did you just never want to be alone?
