sunrise over the cityscape
She likes when Steven smiles.
She likes the way he smiles with his eyes, the innocence still bubbling in him as he gushes about her latest archeological 'find'.
"Technically, Layla, it's theft," He chimes, holding the Diadem of Taweret.
"Technically, Steven," She rebuttals in a teasing tone. "As the Avatar of Taweret, I think I can say where it belongs."
"Mm, I suppose I can forgive it. Do you know the history behind this?"
He knows she does, but she still wants to hear him talk, so Layla nods for Steven to continue to talk about a queen that was barren and asked Taweret to bless her with fertility. The way he paces around his loft, gesturing in the air as he explains the ritual of offering to Taweret with a huge grin on his face.
"But you know this," Steven says, running a hand through his hair as he sits in the chair opposite of her.
"Yeah, but I love when you tell it. You're cute," Layla says softly.
Steven stammers, looking away with a blush Marc never wears. "I, uh, no, you."
Layla laughs. "What are we in, fifth grade?"
"I dunno," He murmurs. "I mean, if I was, I'd be passing you a note that says 'do you like me?' with the yes or no checkboxes. But…since we're not in fifth grade and we're adults, I guess I should be asking you if you would like to go out on a date with me."
Layla's eyebrows raise. "Wow. That was…impressive."
He pulls his head back, just as surprised as she is, and Marc says with just as much surprise, "Yeah, good job, Steven."
Steven beams. “Thanks, mate. Just did what you said and took the chance.”
It takes but a second for Layla to process what was said. “Wait, what did you say, Marc?”
Marc closes his eyes in exasperation. “Goddammit, Steven.”
Steven at least has the decency to look guilty. “Look, I wanted to make sure Marc was okay with it, I felt it’d be rude to not…and he told me that I had to be smooth.”
Layla feels her brows shoot up in surprise. “Smooth? Marc?”
She sees Steven’s face of interest morph into Marc’s expression of regret. “Layla, no, please-“
“Okay, Steven, do you want to hear about our honeymoon?” Layla slaps her hand on the table. “Khonshu decided Marc needed to go and steal another god’s staff from their Avatar. I got to wake up the second night to someone trying to stab Marc in the chest, and seeing him pull the suit out to block it. That’s how I found out my husband was some weird moon priest Avatar.”
She can tell when it stops being Marc (regret, shame, a bit of penance added into the mix) and starts being Steven (hesitant, afraid, a hint of curiosity for her response), and as he leans forward, Steven asks, "Well, I mean, do you want me to find an Avatar to fight on our honeymoon? I can schedule that."
Layla bites her lip, but she can't hold back her laughter, clutching her chest as she laughs until her breath is gone.
Much to her light misfortune, Steven continues. "I know you like the suit, it's a pretty nice suit."
"You're so…" Layla wheezes. "Goddammit, Steven!"
"If you want, I can try to get Khonshu to show up and we can have a big Egyptian God fight outside our hotel room. That'll really get your gears going-"
She stops him with a kiss, and it's purely Steven - awkward, hesitant, physically stammering in surprise. He pulls back first, eyes wide as he waits for her to say something. "Yeah, I'll go on a date with you," Layla answers. "We can talk about a honeymoon from there."
Steven represents the morning for her, the sunrise etched in the brightness of his eyes and the wide grin he has.