Arke’s brow shot up at that and she was prepared to snap back with a unnecessarily hurtful retort. And what good would that do? Arke was tired of saying things that she would regret later – she was not Iris would never be Iris and now was as a good time as ever to accept that.
Instead she set mugs on the counter, filling both with the freshly brewed coffee. “Cream and sugar?”
She had always been a distant creature, a willful brat that had difficulty expressing exactly what she meant because her thoughts ran in circles. Her time in Tartarus hadn’t improved Arke’s demeanor. It had made her a little bit colder, a little more distant and even more unwilling to step into the bright light she so desperately wanted to be in.