“Fascinating — you know, we have something in my universe called biotics? Special powers and abilities that seem to bend reality, caused by exposure to something called element-zero. I’ve been wondering if it’s actually something similar. If maybe your world just discovered it sooner… and we do have some species that some uncharitable tongues could describe as ogreish. But still.” His was a mind that strove to put puzzle pieces together, to see where things fit. (A reason for that navy blue on his wrist, though of course he didn’t know what it meant.)
They were clearly both chatterboxes: Reyes talked fluidly, in an easy patter where it was only after the fact that you realised he liberally shared details of his world, but the details about himself were harder to come by.
“Anyway, I must have interrupted your schedule. I noticed you were sewing downstairs? I’m alright with stitches, if you’d like some help. I could think of far worse things than spending my day in such charming company.”
Plus it was a further opportunity to get to know each other, and carefully gauge this new connection. If he was going to be letting his guard down and sleeping here, it would do to understand Marian Hawke. And, honestly, to lean into this enjoyable playfulness, the gentle flirtation that ebbed and flowed beneath her voice. Something that he had picked up on, caught, and was volleying back, but cautiously. (Don’t piss where you eat, Reyes, was a chiding internal conscience that sounded irritatingly like Keema. Still. He’d ignored her advice before.)
no subject
They were clearly both chatterboxes: Reyes talked fluidly, in an easy patter where it was only after the fact that you realised he liberally shared details of his world, but the details about himself were harder to come by.
“Anyway, I must have interrupted your schedule. I noticed you were sewing downstairs? I’m alright with stitches, if you’d like some help. I could think of far worse things than spending my day in such charming company.”
Plus it was a further opportunity to get to know each other, and carefully gauge this new connection. If he was going to be letting his guard down and sleeping here, it would do to understand Marian Hawke. And, honestly, to lean into this enjoyable playfulness, the gentle flirtation that ebbed and flowed beneath her voice. Something that he had picked up on, caught, and was volleying back, but cautiously. (Don’t piss where you eat, Reyes, was a chiding internal conscience that sounded irritatingly like Keema. Still. He’d ignored her advice before.)