so casually cruel in the name of being honest

Maeve

The look of confusion on his face is enough to earn him a laugh that she tries to cover with her hand, "I wouldn't exactly call that rough, favori." Maeve huffs, slipping a new name for him in at the end as she looks up at him with a grin. It isn't until his expression falters and he reaches to brush his fingers across her neck that she becomes more serious. She can't see the marks, but she's sure they likely look worse than they really are against her pale skin. "Hm? Oh, it's fine. I don't even feel them anymore." They're a little tender, but they don't hurt. Besides, she likes marks. Maeve reaches up to catch his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm as she guides him down to lay beside her once more.

Her brows knit together and she doesn't exactly believe him, but she's not interested in pushing it. They already did a lot today. No need to dig deeper into something that they can take their time exploring later. She hums softly, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair, pushing the curls from his eyes. "Good... I'm glad. I feel good too. I'm glad we were able to talk." And she is. There isn't a lie to be found in her words as she offers him a small smile as he pulls away from the kiss that she accepts happily.

The mention of food suddenly has her stomach growling and she remembers that she hasn't actually eaten today. She'd been too anxious to stomach anything more than a cup of coffee. "Yeah, I could do lunch. I've not eaten much today." Maeve starts to sit up, pausing as she looks back at him, "You're not going to get in trouble right? Not missing training or anything?"

These violent delights
Have violent ends