Re: The next afternoon: Seven/Marta
The command to stop (because that's what it felt like - sudden and sharp) had Marta's gaze snapping up to Seven's face, a flare of emotion in her eyes that was a flicker too quick to define, to tease out all the pieces that made it up: confusion and hurt and surprise and maybe a little bit of anger. And she was ready to snap back, to let her reactions flare out without any thought, but she'd had months of talking and working through things, and learning how to think before she reacted - or at least how to pause for just long enough that her reaction wouldn't be immediately negative. (Not that she was particularly good at it yet. There were definitely times when old habits reared their heads.)
It helped that Seven's next words were tempered down, into a tone that was almost gentle, and definitely familiar. It was warm afternoons and exasperation and toes tucked beneath a warm thigh - a smile hiding in the corners of lips and eyes. It was a squeeze to her heart, and she took a breath to fill her lungs, looking at the way he splayed himself across the bench, his elbow closer to where her shoulders pressed against the wooden slats. And into that space, she allowed herself the shadow of a smile and a hint of creeping warmth - and honesty. "Doesn't mean I believed it, then." Probably something the both of them already knew, but she'd learned that sometimes those sorts of things still needed to be said outloud.
"But thank you." She tried saying it again, sincere. "It feels l-like I'm looking better." The cadence of her words wasn't always as easy as it'd once been, an occasional pause or hesitation that tripped her tongue. But she'd grown used to it enough that the subtle gaps didn't bother her (as much) anymore. And for someone that was only just meeting her, it was likely they wouldn't even notice most of the time.
And then, because she was hardly ever one to not poke at a vulnerable spot, she let her eyes linger on him and shook her head the tiniest bit. Because all the pieces of him at the moment slotted together - and she finally called him on it, though her voice stayed soft and maybe a little concerned: "Fuck, handsome. How much did you drink last night?"