“There you are. Where the fuck have you two been?” “Fucking,” I say proudly. Vane groans. Pan’s gaze darts between us and I notice he gets caught on the fresh bruises around my throat. “Are you all right?” he asks. “I am magnificent.” “Quit bragging,” Vane says. “It does not become you.” “On the contrary. It becomes me very well.”
*giggling, twirling my hair, kicking my feet*
