he must smile at this. foolhardy creature, astute to everything but what is obvious. they’d had his curiosity from the onset, when they declared herself princess of the pantheon when she was still but a fledgling to the organization, kept it when she proved her mettle further, undeterred by his testing and prodding in seeing how far she could swell and draw herself long if pushed. he was never disappointed.
“and? what would you do if you had it?” still, he nudges further, always ravenous for an answer to his inquisition, answering every answer with another question. old habit, borne of juvenile defiance, nurtured into a way of probing for further intel in adulthood, then as a method of training and teaching as a titan. its never lost its taunting lilt, and now, when it is neither defiance nor teaching, what is it? “prinsesse, i am always enjoying myself. more than most of our peers, i would say. even in my grief.”
“how well i know you?” he echoes, nearly incredulous. “don’t i have cause to be arrogant in this regard, hm? i very much enjoyed myself in new zealand.” lifts his head up when the room opens itself with greeting spearing lights and aplomb - a vast view of the marina piccola, and the sweeping horizon behind it, and he nearly forgets his grief, even if only for a moment. plucks his cigarette from his mouth, presses it to the waiting ashtray on the coffee table. heartening, the sight of natural beauty, vibrant life, waiting and thrumming.
he turns to evren, a semblance of gratitude a solemn writ struck through his face, faint smile curling his lips. “thank you. this was needed.” this is as much as an admission as he’s capable of, of any sort of hint as to his own anguish throughout the past months, his purposeful isolation. smooths the hair from their forehead, thumb pressed to the side of their cheek. “for a boy raised chin deep in dirt, this is more luxury than i would have ever dreamed of deserving, evren. but. is it even good enough to offer back to you, i wonder? up to your tastes?”
his curiosity was insatiable, nearly as much as her hunger for complete and utter perfection. their bright eyes flickered between his, lip trapped between their teeth as they think of whether or not to satisfy his hunger with an answer. what would you do if you had it? it was a dangerous question to ask. posed to the wrong person, any question could prove to be rather dangerous, but with evren the answers are so very rarely what people hope to hear. never before had she truly cared about an answer that was given - and yet, their lips part as they weigh the answer that’s on their tongue.
“make sure that it never strays to any other. hoard it as if it were gold. what wouldn’t i do if i had your attention, always?” they purr, fingers idly trailing along the back of the chair as they sashay towards him. a small smile steals across their face at his confession, pausing in their steps as they glance away from him, in the hopes that he might not see the satisfaction that painted itself across their visage. “let me distract you from your grief, amore, for as long as we’re here. let me be greedy with your attention. let me hoard it.”
who else, but agent saxon, would turn the princess of pantheon into a beggar?
it is then that they turn their gaze away from him, to look out at the lush blue waters of the italian coast. she could practically taste the salt of the sea on her tongue, could feel the cool breeze caress the curves of her cheek to temper the brutal august heat. and still, their gaze strayed back to him, meticulously noting the details of his face, so that she might see whether this provided any reprieve from the guilt and grief that battered him so. “you have cause to be arrogant,” she admitted, head canting as she stepped closer, idle hands gently straightening his shirt. “but is the arrogance justified? after all, you’ve only visited me once…” but any further words were quickly smothered the moment she felt his touch, porcelain cheeks becoming flushed, their eyes growing round in surprise.
they press their cheek into his touch, unabashedly chasing after the warmth that was offered. the palm of one’s hard was a map that she had learned to read well. every callous, every scar, every line was a tome from which she had learned to glean information. but any such thought was lost in the warmth that his hands offered, so when his question tugged at her attention, she found herself blinking up at him slowly. “far better than what i had expected,” she murmured into his palm, lips pressing against it gently. “the princess quite likes her new castle. it’s a welcome fortress against the world.” it’s a welcome break from dreaming of ways to punish kraken.
