by the light of the new moon
Nightly tea is soothing, even with her worries. She looks over to their sleeping body, hoping they can get more than four hours of sleep; Jake has been active the last three nights, and Steven fell asleep on his way to an interview. She knows sharing a body three ways feels like time is being stolen from them, and she laments that there is nothing she can do besides watch over them.
Layla takes another sip, and an unnatural breeze washes over her as she does. She puts the cup back down on the plate, golden eyes of Ra repeating all along the rim, not even bothering to look at her visitor. "Khonshu."
"Layla." The god stands at the balcony, not having to worry about any nightly wanderers of the street peering on him.
"What graces me with your presence, O Patron of the Night?" She says with notable disdain.
"I thought a discussion between you and I to air out grievances was in order," He says, crouching on the railing.
Layla stays silent, preferring to continue drinking her tea. She doesn't want to talk to him, the thing that keeps the boys entrapped in a lifetime of servitude.
Khonshu sets his staff down on the patio floor, perfectly balanced as it stands upright. "You stayed with Taweret," He comments.
A forceful exhale through her nose can't be held back, but all the stinging words she wants to hurl at him are. "I have my reasons."
"They are…noble. Respectable."
Layla sets her cup down on the plate with more force than before. "What do you know about noble or respectable?! You misled Marc and Steven into believing their body was free."
These feelings being put into words is something she's been doing and refining since they first found out about Jake, and she knows Khonshu stays silent because he can't argue with her. They may have been freed from their own duties, but with Jake still actively an Avatar, it was an illusion Khonshu gave because…
"Why did you do it?" She spits out with venom. She needs to know. There was no point in giving them the illusion. What could they do, even when they did know?
"Which thing are you referring to, little bug?" Normally, she'd take being referred to as a bug as condescension, but the way he says it is warm, fatherly almost, so she stays her tongue on it.
"If you still had Jake, why did you let Steven and Marc go?"
Khonshu taps his bony fingers together as he thinks. "I wasn't going to keep them bound on their own. We made an agreement, and I wasn't going to go back on my word."
"But they were still bound," Layla hisses.
"Little bug, I am not the one you want to talk to if your primary concern is that the body they share is still under my patronage," Khonshu admits.
Layla drinks her tea, eyeing Khonshu over the brim of the cup. He's not lying, she can tell that much. The only other person that would be party to that conversation would be… "Jake."
"That would be a wise place to start. Maybe at that food cart you two know." He stands, tapping his staff against the ground. "I'm impressed that you've managed to soften Jake Lockley."
"About as softened as a block of ice."
"Softer than he was before," Khonshu chides. "They…we are fortunate to have you here."
Layla snorts, standing with her empty cup and plate. "And why are you fortunate? Shouldn't you be angry that I'm angry at you?"
"You act as you should, protect them as you should," Khonshu answers. "But you are also what drove them back to being in my patronage. You are their double-edged sword. I may have accepted their offer, but you are their motivation. You always have been, one way or another."
Khonshu disappears in a swirl of dust, leaving Layla with bitter truths on her tongue.
"Layla?"
She turns from the sink to see Marc sitting up, rubbing his eyes. "Hey."
"You talking to someone, Layla?" Steven asks, sleep still having its arms wrapped around him from how groggy he sounds.
She tucks her hair behind her ear. "It's nothing. We can talk tomorrow. You need your sleep."
Steven pouts before patting the spot next to him. "Come sleep with us."
Layla bites her tongue; it's a new boundary they haven't talked about yet, but the temptation to just fall asleep next to someone warm is there.
"Baby, come on," Marc groans. "It'll be easier on all of us. We can talk more in the morning."
Ah, shit. She can't argue with that tired and alluring voice.
Layla crawls in, snuggling into their side as she soaks in the warmth. Arms wrap around her, holding her tightly, and with how close they are, she can feel a sense of…harmony between Marc and Steven. An agreement, a balance.
"Ah, yeah, that's the stuff," Steven mumbles, nuzzling his nose into her curly hair. "Night, Layla."
Layla sighs, pressing her cheek against their chest, their heart beating intensely, as if doubled. "Night, boys."