WHO: Kymopoleia & Briareos WHEN: Sunday night WHERE: One of the bars they've been to before WHAT: Still awkward between them WARNINGS: vague mentions of rape, tba
When Ky looked up at the feeling of Briareos entering the dingy bar, she sighed and half-glared at her beer. Things were bumpy between them, but that could hardly be a surprise. Things had shifted - kept shifting, their twisted relationship acting like the sea they were both locked to.
She'd saved his life. By choice. On purpose.
But then when she'd asked him to go out and drink and he'd suggested the idea that it was a date and Ky had recoiled with horror and fury and indescribable hurt all tangled up together like deep sea kelp. She thought of his hands on her skin and all that came with it was fear and nausea, memories of another time long ago. There was no fucking dates.
They hadn't spoken since, and Kymopoleia hadn't made any plans to go out of her way to speak to him again. But here he was, and she didn't find herself overly surprised. She hadn't been trying to find him, but nor had she been hiding. This was a bar they'd both drunk together at before, and so it wasn't any sort of secret hideout.