She rolls her eyes at his simple response to her tirade. Mazikeen doesn’t call him an idiot again but she’s sure thinking it - thinking that he must be socializing wrong if he’s still alone while he’s doing it. What was so wrong about forming connections, about having someone know you?
When Firion’s smile goes sly, Mazikeen’s eyes narrow. His voice has changed, the husky words sending prickles down her skin like she had just touched cold seaweed. It’s a surprise when he steps forward and she’s sure she doesn’t cover it fast enough, but then her eyes burn with annoyance.
She lifts her black-tipped leg to step back and regain space between them but even that small admittance that he was having such an effect on her sits uneasily in her stomach so she places it back down and stands her ground. “Don’t.” She whispers in a harsh note and hopes he does not notice the slightest tremor in her voice. She tells herself it’s just the anger (and maybe it is, maybe she’s not uncomfortable - just pissed). She hates that she had wanted to be his friend once, hates that he’s dangling that truth like a taunt before her. “You made your views on my company clear enough when we were young. I don’t want to play this game.”
It’s not a game she knows how to play - and that (though she'll never admit it) is something that does frighten her.
Even if it’s all just a joke to him, she's sure there's no way he could actually think she found his company a pleasure, she focuses on shooting back words that don’t allow the narrative of their meeting today to change. “And I didn’t seek out your company. I was looking for someone to share in some fun. I would not have come over here if I knew it was you.”
@[firion]