Hestia & Edgar
Stepping into the safety of the safe house, the front door clicked softly shut behind him. Edgar lingered for a moment in the quiet of the hallway, shoulders sagging as he drew one sharp breath, followed by another... and another. The mission had been successful—successful enough, at least—but not without cost. Blood had long since dried beneath the torn sleeve of his T-shirt, the fabric sticking unpleasantly against the shallow gash carved across his upper arm. It stung each time he moved, though he dismissed it as little more than an inconvenience.
His attention snapped up, golden-brown eyes blinking as they registered the other figure. "—Oh, Hestia... you're here." Straightening instinctively, the fatigue disappeared behind a soft, reassuring smile, every trace of the night's weariness quietly swallowed down.
"You've been waiting up?" Words mummured as sore shoulders rolled into a stretch. . His gaze flickered towards the kitchen before returning to her. "I was just going to put the kettle on." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Do you want a cupper ?"
@hcalingherbs

















