01-18-2019, 10:02 PM
Asha’s lips quirked an amused smile, though not unkind. Caution flushed from him, stilted like a strange question. But that sense of protection wasn’t unfamiliar to her; both Elias and Nox had watched over her like a little sister. And it made her feel safe. She squeezed his hand like she could tap into his uncertainty and console it somehow.
“Home.” She laughed, all the relief at their uneventful escape sweeping out of her. “I’ve lived most of my life on the road. Home was my car until it got stolen. Now … it’s a little complicated, but I kinda drift between places.” Tony’s was stifling and full of too many bodies (and all of them male), El outright refused Damien’s hospitality no matter how genially offered (though they still needed his help), and he still hated that she retreated to the quiet of Aria’s apartment (despite that the threat of Aria’s ex had never materialised).
That sense of rootlessness never bothered her, of course. She still missed the road and the freedoms of it. But there were things worth staying in Moscow for, too.
She twisted, chewing on her lip to scour the empty street behind them. “I’d feel them if they were. Well, probably. Definitely if they were anything like the ones back there.” Nothing piqued her senses, but then the anchor of Tobias’s grip muffled the sharpness of her awareness. His kindness meant something to her. And she didn’t want that kindness repaid by the sharp edges of Elias’s tongue. “I’m not sure you’d get a nice welcome. My friend, well… he’s a little abrasive.” She winced at the term; it wasn’t really how she’d describe El, not the swell of feeling that banked and crashed under the surface, but she knew it was how he was perceived. On a good day.
The distraction of the question was welcome.
“I said I’d pass along the information. It’s up to him what he does with it,” she answered honestly. Doubt pinched the word ‘good’, enough that her head tilted in consideration. It was a curious little tickle of feeling. “Nox sorted me somewhere to stay when I lost my home, and he checks in from time to time to make sure I’m okay. He didn’t have to do any of that -- and he knows what I am. If he was a simple snake he’d have killed me; no one would have missed me, believe me. And if he was a snake with a conscience he could have just asked someone else to do it. But I’m still here. He might not be ‘good’ in the sense you mean, but he was good to me.” Away from the oppressiveness of Rowan’s cafe, the words spilled out more freely. She hated to think what Tobias must see around those who killed for a living. Certainly, she didn't blame his outright dislike of them.
She nudged him with her elbow, grinning.
“El says I’m too trusting. Maybe I am.”
Then, after a moment, the weight of her own conscience bearing down and softening the edges of her smile, she added. “Do you think she’ll be okay? I know she was … well, however she was, she still doesn’t deserve to die.”
“Home.” She laughed, all the relief at their uneventful escape sweeping out of her. “I’ve lived most of my life on the road. Home was my car until it got stolen. Now … it’s a little complicated, but I kinda drift between places.” Tony’s was stifling and full of too many bodies (and all of them male), El outright refused Damien’s hospitality no matter how genially offered (though they still needed his help), and he still hated that she retreated to the quiet of Aria’s apartment (despite that the threat of Aria’s ex had never materialised).
That sense of rootlessness never bothered her, of course. She still missed the road and the freedoms of it. But there were things worth staying in Moscow for, too.
She twisted, chewing on her lip to scour the empty street behind them. “I’d feel them if they were. Well, probably. Definitely if they were anything like the ones back there.” Nothing piqued her senses, but then the anchor of Tobias’s grip muffled the sharpness of her awareness. His kindness meant something to her. And she didn’t want that kindness repaid by the sharp edges of Elias’s tongue. “I’m not sure you’d get a nice welcome. My friend, well… he’s a little abrasive.” She winced at the term; it wasn’t really how she’d describe El, not the swell of feeling that banked and crashed under the surface, but she knew it was how he was perceived. On a good day.
The distraction of the question was welcome.
“I said I’d pass along the information. It’s up to him what he does with it,” she answered honestly. Doubt pinched the word ‘good’, enough that her head tilted in consideration. It was a curious little tickle of feeling. “Nox sorted me somewhere to stay when I lost my home, and he checks in from time to time to make sure I’m okay. He didn’t have to do any of that -- and he knows what I am. If he was a simple snake he’d have killed me; no one would have missed me, believe me. And if he was a snake with a conscience he could have just asked someone else to do it. But I’m still here. He might not be ‘good’ in the sense you mean, but he was good to me.” Away from the oppressiveness of Rowan’s cafe, the words spilled out more freely. She hated to think what Tobias must see around those who killed for a living. Certainly, she didn't blame his outright dislike of them.
She nudged him with her elbow, grinning.
“El says I’m too trusting. Maybe I am.”
Then, after a moment, the weight of her own conscience bearing down and softening the edges of her smile, she added. “Do you think she’ll be okay? I know she was … well, however she was, she still doesn’t deserve to die.”