Incendiu couldn’t help but chuckle at his reply about her burning him before following him to the table. Upon sitting down and looking at him, she could already tell it was going to be hard to hold a conversation. As soon as a plate was set down in front of him, his mind would be else where, keeping his attention would be fun. It’d be like old times. At his reply to her question, she sighed and nodded, leaning forward some and letting her forearms rest against the edge of the table. “Does anything interest every really happen to us?” She asked with a raised eyebrow before laughing and rolling her eyes, “Everything is as peachy as usual.” Still Wrath. What else was there to say? This meeting was making things look up a lot more, though.
Even though she’d never been able to really connect with the Sins, other than Petruchio, it was easier to be around them. They understood things, that not many could, even then, no one would understand her better than the green-haired demon in front of her. It was just strange to see him again, not bad at all, but she thought if they ever met, it’d be under much worse circumstances. A death, one of the other Sins passing away, or maybe even his own. The thought itself caused her lips to twitch down and into a pronounced frown. Staying happy for more than a few moments was quite rare for Incendiu, with her tendency to become extremely enraged very quickly, and her ability to make everything have a downside. Then again, everything did, didn’t it?
“Don’t tell me you’ve come to bring me news,” If anyone’s death, she’d want it to be her own. But here she was, alive and breathing right in front of him. Even if her sanity wasn’t the most stable, she was sure she wasn’t this delusional. Slamming her hand against the table, the fiery headed woman shut her eyes, “If you did I’m going to need a drink.” It wasn’t exactly hard to get her drunk, but she wasn’t a lightweight either. Opening her eyes again, she looked over to him, “Or how about just not telling me at all?” She nodded. “Sounds wonderful, glad you agreed.” Because she knew he hated fighting, so if he pressed a topic, it was really bad. Turning her head again, she scowled, “How long has this bitch taken to get us some food?”
Typical, Petruchio thought, the corner of his lips twitching into a half-smile. Instead of feeling happy over the two of them meeting up by chance, she had to go and think of the worst possibility; that he was bringing bad news. She had always been prone to jumping to conclusions, even back then. Perhaps it wasn’t necessarily a surprising reaction; after everything they had been through, they had been made to believe that if there was something bad that could happen to them, it would happen for sure. That was how they had grown up, and it was not something that was easily forgotten. But Petruchio was different; his way of coping was with a smile and food, even if things looked down, he looked up, forced himself to look up — there was no other way for him to look anyways, he had always been right at the bottom, even if his strength was one of the highest. He had gotten used to it, and while other people would have drawn façades around themselves for protection, Petruchio’s smiles were always genuine.
By the time he would have opened his mouth to say anything, Incendiu had already decided by herself that whatever he had to say, she did not want to hear it. Petruchio glanced away. Who was he to argue with that? Perhaps he was in a little better control of his own life now, but… old habits die hard. He ran his fingers through his hair, then finally looked back at her, smiling. Just the sight of her face made him smile all over again. If he’d ever had a friend at all, it was Incendiu. A moment later, the smile turned into a laugh, and he shook his head a little. “We haven’t been sitting here for five full minutes!” He could get a little fidgety when it was about food, all right, but he would never reach her limits in terms of impatience.
This was such a wonderful meeting, though she could slowly feel dread creeping upon her. She was only trying to pay...
“Five, it was five,” Petruchio replied, his voice a little absent-minded. He was too preoccupied with watching Incendiu...