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legacies fav quotes | 1x05 

         As far as Eden was concerned, Dave had overstayed his welcome from the very first second he made himself known. Meeting his affronting versions of compliments with a blank expression, opting to wait it out until he got bored and left, her façade showed signs of faltering the instant he strung an offensive arm so indelicately over Hayden’s shoulders. ”Hey, I think she’s good,” she interjected, a flare of heat surging up the back of her neck as he peered over to send a wide toothy grin towards Eden’s antagonistic attitude, “Awww,” he sneered, jostling Hayden with a squeeze of his outstretched arm, “your friend doesn’t like sharing? That’s not very nice...” Eden cringed, upper lip curling at the potent whiff of him that radiated into her space, too close for comfort. “Maybe I’m not a nice girl,” she snapped in a mutter, attentively shifting her gaze to Hayden’s face, noting the unnaturally tensed composure of her facial expression. Another issue was the last damn thing she needed on her hands. Eden’s hands, however, were perfectly empty and clean. Wiped dry on the thighs of her jeans, to be precise, before she clenched one into a fist and channeled every muted mounting degree of infuriation into throwing her knuckles squarely at the soft base of his throat. The contact made pronounced thud upon impact, in turn causing an entirely different type of warmth to shoot up her arm. Ignoring what would surely ache later, Eden wasted no time pushing up from her seat, as much as she wished to linger and observe the satisfying aftermath of the impulsive swing— mister creepy stranger’s hands flying up to cradle the assaulted area of his neck as he stumbled back, spluttering like an idiot. All she could truly afford to notice was the spaciousness suddenly back in place around Hayden, interrupted only by Eden reaching out for her (with the hand not currently throbbing), “Let’s get out of here.”

          Eden kept her attention trained on the blonde with quiet scepticism, not completely sold on the claim yet equally invested against intervening. There was little she could think of to do but wait for the pitiful wave to pass; for a more worthwhile distraction that could steal Hayden’s focus away from all the recent events weighing on her mind. It was Eden’s turn to shift around in her seat, taken off guard by the question and swishing she had stomached some alcohol while she had the chance. Maybe in such an alternate case there wouldn’t be a gnawing feeling planted in her stomach at the directness of her question. “I d—” Too engaged in trying to think of an answer that gracefully skirted around the unsatisfactory truth, in the end it didn’t even matter when she found herself cut off by a sudden jarring impact against the side of their table. The projectile? One clearly inebriated man, perhaps in his 40s, all clumsy arms and off balance footing; topped off with a beer saturated beard and ratty t-shirt. Eden blinked rapidly, eyes stinging against the strength of the odor reeking from his breath when he spoke: “Two pretty faces, hey? Y’got room for one more?”