Evie
tell me all of the things
that make you feel at ease
His voice is like a lure, a siren song she can never ignore, always goading her onward. His voice has always been like that for her even when he's not physically present; an encouraging murmur from over her shoulder when she's close to her limit, a comforting muffled tone pressed against her crown when she is small, a burst of there-and-gone laughter approving of her cleverness. The inner voice that had once sounded like her father's has been usurped in totality, all doubts and self-recrimination replaced with the overpowering sum of Deimos' love and support. And even when he teases, taunts, lays traps, she still finds herself sparing moments and seconds to muse on how grateful she is for that. Not that it means she'll take it easy on him, especially when the splash of water distracts her enough to wipe it from her cheek and slow her pace when she looks up to find walls of greenery instead of her husband. And, just to be a brat, Evie grins and - with a bit of help from her magic pushing up against his - charges straight through the grass walls in a bull-like rush to try and find him without navigating the channels and halls he's built.
