"Better than the other trash you listen to. Seriously, how can you not get tired of someone weeping over their one true love," Elizabeth mused, putting extra emphasis on the last three words with a girly sigh and a batting of lashes. "Every country song sounds the same, Beau. The sooner you realize this, the happier the rest of your life will be."
Twenty minutes and a few pop ballads later, and the two hunters were making their way into the carnival. She didn't take it personally when Beau let his arm drop - it was just the way they were. They didn't acknowledge their relationship in the public eye, because if it came down to it, they both could be used against the other one. When it came to Beau, Elizabeth would do anything to keep him safe, even if it meant putting herself in danger. To avoid that all together, they kept all signs of their intimate relationship behind closed doors and out of sight from prying eyes. If anyone asked, they were simply close.
"I want that and a fried twinkie," she told him, holding out her wrist so that he could wrap the access band around it. Her excitement was already building; it was a mix of elements, really. The screams of ride-induced terror, the smell of fried food, and the underlying tones of cheap beer and sweat - it all meant a good time, as far as Elizabeth was concerned. "Oh, and some beer."