MAEVE
Aurelia's eyes slip along her body and Maeve thinks that she could be checking her out. It's brighter in here than it was the night they met. The sconces and various candles filling the room with soft light. Her body is clothed in what looks to be a satin robe, tied closed at her waist, but it's clear she is in some kind of sleepwear. How much is actually covered is to be determined. She doesn't miss the frown or the way her expression hardens when she finally notices the bruising at her temple. It's fading and the cut is healing nicely, but it is still fairly prominent against her pale skin. The soft compliment eases her nerves and her smile is back as she leads Aurelia up the back stairs towards her room. "Thank you.."
The interior of her space is different from the main floor of the Halenani. Where it is decorated in stark whites from floor to ceiling; Maeve's space is more fitting to her. She still have the same white furniture, but the linens have been exchanged for colors of purple, red, and black in various different fabrics. Maeve sets the parcel on a small table fitted with two chairs before she's turning back to face the other woman.
Her touch isn't unwelcome. Nor does it make her flinch when the smuggler's fingertips gently brush across the bruise. She lets out a nervous laugh, embarrassment for how she got that particular bruise creeping back in. That was the least worrying part about the event if she was being honest. It still made her cheeks flush either way. "It really isn't anything to be concerned about. I, uh, had a run in with some particularly cruel vines up by Wishtide. They made me fall into the stream and I hit my head on a rock. It's really nothing."
She looks up at her from beneath her lashes before letting her eyes drop, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear when Aurelia mentions her hair. "Which, that would have been bad enough on its on, but some guy there came over to help me and when he touched me we kind of.. Teleported? I don't really know what happened, but we ended up in the tar pits and my hair suffered. I tried to wash it all out, but it was caked in for a least three days before we got to the Grounds and could take a portal back. By that point it was too late. I had to cut it off."
Maeve doesn't mention that Locke helped her to cut it or anything that happened after that. She just wants to forget that part. Forget about him. Why should she even bother thinking of him when Aurelia is here with soup and soft eyes and genuine concern for her well being? She has no reason to even let him cross her mind. So she pushes him far away and instead turns all of her attention to the other woman.
She reaches up, catching her wrist and letting her thumb brush across the inside of it gently, "I'm okay. Really. Just had a bit of bad luck."
A pretty face
Doesn't mean a pretty heart
Doesn't mean a pretty heart
