My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room
Except the stool isn't really all that empty. While Aidon wasn't sitting in it, he was guarding it for Locke and when the stranger who very much wasn't Locke sat in it, he bristles and warbles his irritation from beneath the stool. This catches Maeve's attention at the sudden ire that travels along the bond, pulling her brows together and pushing a huff past her lips, turning to see just what had Aidon in a twist. Her expression instantly softens upon seeing the other man, "Sorry, he takes his job very seriously." Maeve laughs, lifting her drink to him in a half hearted cheers, "Put his drink on my tab, love." She offers to the barkeep before turning her attention back to him, head cocking to the side thoughtfully.
"You seem familiar. Have we met before?" The Madame asks, seaglass gaze running over him curiously as a smile curls on painted lips.
"You seem familiar. Have we met before?" The Madame asks, seaglass gaze running over him curiously as a smile curls on painted lips.
Maeve
