“Well, obviously Marigold is the exception to many of my rules,” he pointed out, “but I don't think she'd call you fat to begin with, so your logic kind of falls flat there, cher,” he mused, smoothing his hands along her sides. “Anyone who isn't Marigold, however? A punch right to the face. And then I can make the announcement.” He paused, then smirked. “One of those win-win situations that come from a not-so-good one.”
Mike was a good choice. Evan still stood by it, mostly because he still wasn't sure he trusted Brandon to do it and most of the rest of the complex didn't quite trust Silas, either. And Evan himself had far too much on his plate already. “But at least we're all on the same page on who we don't trust. And Mike says he has eyes on them constantly, so he'd have to do something pretty heinous to be able to get away with anything.” Which was both comforting and not.
Putting his hands up in defeat, he chuckled. “I thought you gave me the okay, but it seems that I've worn out my 'talk about whatever I want to' card already,” he joked with a little grin. He honestly didn't care. Not really. But it was fun to give her a little bit of a hard time. “If you insist,” he continued the joke.
“Wait a minute, didn't I say that I'd punch the first person to call you fat in the face? Is this all some master ploy to see what your boyfriend would look like trying to punch himself in the face, because if it is, I genuinely thought we were beyond that point,” he joked, his smirk just as wry as ever. “I suppose a self face-punch is a small price to pay to keep you happy, though.”
Without missing a beat, Evan latched onto her joke. “What if I were to tell you that my natural hair color is blond and my birth name was Daisy?” he asked. “And I'm relatively little for a guy, so we've already got that on lock.” He winked.
“Mind superpowers may seem fun, but I'd honestly rather not know what people think about me and don't say. And telekinesis seems like a chore. Randomly finding your things on the ceiling when you've been sleep-lifting? I used to want superpowers but then I realized that there was more negative to them than positive.”
With her agreement that it was calming, he smiled, then laughed when she pointed out the lack of desire to push him off the roof. “That's good. I rather like being alive, and if it's possible, I'd like to stay that way for a little bit longer. You know,” he mused, “because I have so much to live for and look forward to and everything.” Meant genuinely.
“Oh, I don't mind surprises, really, but you know... every man has his limits.” He released her reluctantly and watched as she walked over to the bag, allowing his smile to grow when she tried to drag the explanation out. Berry tarts, champagne and cigarettes. “Hm,” he said quietly, “this feels very, very familiar. All of this,” he said, though he knew what she was going for, especially since she'd already said it. “It's a shame you can't partake with me, though,” he added quietly. “The tarts will go sensationally with the champagne.”