She couldn't help but sigh when he moved her aside, letting her arms unwind from around his neck and fall to her sides. You add too much into it. Did she? Elia supposed that was true as far as the Djinn was concerned. It would have been much easier for him if she had just continued to busy herself with Marcus – and, she imagined, if she had not pushed for anything in the first place.
Elia watched him set aside the glass of wine, and picked it up instead. It was warm, she suspected from Kennet's influence. Cooling it down was simple enough, though; it only meant swirling her own power around the glass. Shadows flickered across the surface, and then disappeared. She didn't know what to say to him, how she could argue it. Yeah, she supposed she was there because of Marcus – and his irritating mortality.
"I don't want you to handle those issues," she offered after a moment, sipping at the newly-cooled glass of wine as she strolled toward him. It was the same slow, easy movement as before, the one that made the chains across her breasts chime softly. "I can handle them on my own. What's wrong with the costume?"