Re: Eddie's Kitchen: Muerte / Eddie
[It's different, seeing him like this. Different than the night he came back still wearing all the expensive-cut green. Different than the mess of tattoos and necromancy. Different than the low and dark of a man lost in crumbling marriage. Even different than those old, old times of forming friendship. Both of them have gone away and come back again with lives and worlds beneath their belts. But he touches the back of his neck with uncertainty, and she wants to press her own fingers there to reassure him.
And that's how she knows that it's not just the hotel and wishes. Not on her part.
She turns her head to hide her face against her knees, but the laugh that catches in her throat is just loud enough to be heard in the kitchen.] Is the cabinet thing supposed to be a mark in your favor? [It's a tease, even if the words are muffled by the ravine of her legs pulls close to her body.]