there’s more than a hint of déjà vu while she stands amongst the other partygoers, arm linked with illya’s and silently surveying the people around them. at least they’re used to playing the part of a couple now, even if their roles are different. she’s a dancer, not so far from the truth. and he’s a philosopher, very far from the truth. privately, gaby thinks that illya’s only philosophy is getting things done no matter what, usually with a display of unmatched brute force. he’s not the subtlest man in the world: and how could he be? he already stands one of the tallest in the room no matter where he goes.
“ play nice tonight, yeah? “ she murmurs. the last party they went to stands out in her mind, notably the three rich italian boys that had been left slumped in the bathroom after mouthing off to the wrong person. “ we’re here to make friends, not enemies. “ not real friends, of course, not when these so-called friends have their eye on american nukes that would tip the precarious balance of the world into chaos. and, despite her nagging, she knows that he knows the stakes. he’s more than capable even if he has a temper, and she trusts him with her life.
she takes a step deeper into the party, glad she has him to anchor her even if she’s getting more used to these things. she hasn’t been a spy as long as him or solo - but she’s got grit and determination all her own, and she intends to make use of it. she spares a moment to think of solo; he’s around somewhere. he always finds a way to be even if he doesn’t have an invitation. taking a deep breath, she puts a smile on her face, looking much more relaxed than she feels.
#.* @kinguponthesea : closed starter.