Why. Why did he have to look like that? The men didn’t look like that in Diana’s world. Themyscira had been an island of women, and even out among mankind as a whole, they didn’t look like that. To quote an entirely modern turn of phrase, Diana wanted to see the manager of this establishment right now. But even in the midst of her private dramatic fit, Diana knew there was no manager, and that it was fitting for a God to look like that.
“I like your shirt,” she all but croaked, and swallowed to see if she could maybe fix this dry-mouth problem, because she hadn’t brought a drink. She genuinely hadn’t thought she’d needed one, which had been an oversight.
She followed him further into the room, ensuring the door closed behind them, and she waited until he’d picked a side before she joined him. It was only polite, since it was his bed, and he was so much bigger than her. Not necessarily in height, though he was also taller, but she was also quite slim. She looked even slimmer if you knew she could throw a tank, which Thor might not have entirely grasped yet. He knew she could throw him, surely. That didn’t matter, and she was distracting herself with silly things rather than what was going on, and so she set her phone down on the bedside table and did as he’d said, getting comfortable. Diana tended to sleep on her back, and so she stayed that way, one arm curled under her head and the other hand resting on her stomach.