@retroprose --- cont.
toe of a dusty boot scratches against the pavement, kicks at broken up concrete pebbles which scatter madly across the lava-hot empty lot. blood’s boiling along with the sun, maggie’s heart is a thumping drum. she feels alive. and yet, in the broad daylight, can’t help but notice they both look dead. “--he’ll be here,” she nods automatically. the wifely sharpness of her tone isn’t pointed towards forest, however. it’s laying in wait for her husband, who most certainly should be here by now, goddammit. they got places they need to be. with the crew, maggie proves unreadable. a cool addition, smirky and sweet, who hardly anyone would glance twice at other than to get an eyeful of her ass. alone with forest, though, she can let out some of this boundless energy that’s been building up.
she paces before the bike, pauses. “fine.” the color of mindfulness tucked away in his voice aren’t lost on her, she puts on a smile and shows it off to him. brows bow sardonically. “don’t i look it?” hands outstretch, wrap around the handlebars on which she gently leans. “if you’re offerin’.” heart calms down as her demeanor turns thoughtful, head tilting. “you’re okay, too, aren’t you? i mean... you’d tell me.” verbalized like a declaration, but the question is still implied. “this ain’t a job to do alone. s’why they brought me in.” he’d do well to remember that once in awhile. forest doesn’t much strike her as a team player. more like a lone wolf who eats the team, if she’s being honest. cigarette is rolled briefly between her fingers before it’s stuck in the crook of her mouth, which is playing up a joker grin. “don’t send a man to do a woman’s job, that ol’ thing.”
