#...answered

[aheeh]

[txt]: I’m fine. Just fine. Hate the shit outta glitter. But I’m alive.

  If she could breathe, it would have been a sigh of relief at the sound of his unique ringtone. Instead, after she stared wistfully at the message, Quiet managed a small smile.

𝚃𝚘: 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚜𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖: 𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝 

I’m glad you’re okay. Stay with me if you want - nothing’s happened here. Be careful out there. You still owe me a date.

After a few minutes of careful consideration, she sent one more motivational message.

𝚃𝚘: 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚜𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖: 𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝 

❤

  If he showed that to anyone, she’d personally break each of his fingers one at a time.

[aheeh]

"Quiet, pull yourself together! You're stronger than this, You confronted me head on- don't let faceless cowards get under your skin."

  { It’s... hard not to when they’re right. When they seem to know V better than I do. I should’ve known what I did would hurt him, but I wasn’t thinking about him. How selfish does that make me, Solid? To put myself, a weapon, above him? A hero? A legend? } She smiled, a sad, broken smile. Not the smile of the weapon she called herself, but the smile of a woman who felt she’d just destroyed something precious. One of very, very few precious things she’d ever had. She could never have been with V. Not with the vocal cord parasite. Not without the Wolbachia. There would always be the reminder of her selfishness in still wishing him dead after everything he did for her. But with Travis? There was none of that. She was just a girl with a fucked up past with a crush on a guy with a fucked up past. What did that make her, really? Some called Venom a demon, but that wasn’t true. It was Quiet all along, wasn’t it? { My skin isn’t mine anymore, anyway. It’s the One that Covers. It just... hasn’t covered this yet. }

[aheeh]

Slithers in your inbox and hisses

  [ Hello yes, pet control? I’d like to report a lost, broken Snake. It’s just crawling around hissing. I think it has some kind of disease. Oh, sure, I’ll hold. ]

[aheeh]

Travis isn't cool or strong

[aheeh]

He doesn’t know she can hear him whistling “Philistine” to himself sometimes.

  And he never will, either. She’s happy to listen and think to herself that he really isn’t that bad at carrying a tune. Besides, it’s endearing and the song is pretty catchy.

[aheeh]

A text: [Sorry, gonna be late. Kitten up a building. Saving it. Yeah yeah I know. I’ll be careful.]

  She turns over in the bed, reaching for her phone on the counter. Quiet smiles softly once she reads the message, shifting to sit up enough to be able to reply. 

  Ｔｏ： Ｔｒａｖｉｓ   Ｆｒｏｍ： Ｑｕｉｅｔ

Don’t apologize, just take care of yourself and come back soon. I’m proud of you, hero. ❤

  It was good to be back and with him again.

[aheeh]

"I traded my handgun in for a revolver. Check this shit out!" He's spinning it like a god damn cowboy. Pretty slick. He probably can't shoot for shit though. Remind you of anyone?

  [ You’re pretty good. ] She’s impressed by the way he spins the revolver, but almost as worried. It’d be easy to shoot himself by accident. She won’t say anything - she doesn’t want to wound his pride - though it does remind her of Ocelot. [ A bit. I had a friend who could do that better than you or I. ] Perhaps calling him a friend was bold, but... she’d like to think they were close to that.