Yes, Eva is jealous. In fact, she’s beyond jealous – and she has every right to be. Matias has PENELOPE LIVY. He has their home. He has the strength to move on. Eva doesn’t have shit. She doesn’t even have a decent roof over her head.

Eva scoffs, rolling her eyes, “Too late for that, Matias,” she could have a million people around her and still feel alone, “Since this is no longer a productive conversation, I’m gonna leave,” she declares, shoving her hands in her pockets and turning to walk towards the door.

---

MATIAS SILPH

His reach hit’s its mark and effectively stops her in her tracks. She’s seems furious about it. When she turns around to face him her eyes are wild and wide. The faintest hint of gold snaps at the edges of her emerald irises while red leaks into the whites of her eyes that glisten with lonely pain.

Although she doesn’t try to pull her arm away, she leans back to create more space, “What?” she looks up at him with an attempt at defiance though it clearly wavers with her own uncertain feelings, “Is there something else you want to ridicule me for?”

---

MATIAS SILPH

She swore she wouldn’t give in. She was careful and deliberate with ever move she made since walking through that door. The way she stood instead of sat, the way she only took one sip of the liquor, the way she distanced herself across the room. Despite the anger and hurt that flare through her system, it only took that one touch to begin to calm the tempest. The same warmth isn’t there, but there is something there that she has been craving. That hunger eats away at her reason and self-control.

Silence. She breaths it in. Her eyes sting with a mix of salty tears and unblinking concentration, “I understand,” she finally says, her voice softer. How could she not? Her own loneliness made her a different person: moody, irrational, distracted.

“It sucks, I get it,” 'sucks' is an understatement. She relaxes just a bit, enough to take the tension off her arm, "I don't think I'll ever get use to it."

---

MATIAS SILPH

There was a time Eva swore she would always be alone. Attachment led to pain, a pain she never wanted to experience again. Instead of holding steadfast to her ideals, she decided to take a leap of faith into his arms. He gently deconstructed the barrier she struggles to erect once again. The firm caress of his thumb against her skin scares away any loneliness she may feel in the moment.

She nods in agreement, conceding to the irony of it all, “Kanto could not have come at a worse time,” her own personal hell to seethe in, “But we’re survivors . . . we’ll pull through,” she says it to try to convince herself, and him, but for her it falls short. She doesn’t believe her own lies.

---

MATIAS SILPH

Finding familiarity is a dangerous trap that is too easy to fall into. They are both weak to loneliness. Matias tries to find comfort in every beating heart that shows an ounce of compassion – and even those that defy him. Eva seeks comfort in the uncomfortable: going to Kanto, spending time with the enemy, spurring civil unrest. She did it all for selfish reasons. In the end, no matter how hard they search, they remain vulnerable, weak, and salacious. That vulnerability only makes it more tempting to slide back into old habits.

“If I stay,” she entertains the thought with slow syllables, bringing her gaze to match his with a seriousness she musters up from somewhere deep down to draw clear boundaries, “We aren’t fucking.”

---

MATIAS SILPH

Satisfied with the verbal boundary she creates, Eva relaxes a bit, breathing out any remaining tension. It’s palpable beneath his fingertips. The muscles of her arm go from taut to soft.

“Good,” she whispers softly, even smiling. She does nothing to draw a line that limits a kindling of their emotional bond. She ignores the dangerous game she’s playing in favor of satisfying her own selfish desire to not be alone. She still doesn’t pull away, “Now, how about another drink? And then you can tell me all about . . . well, whatever it is you want to talk about,” whatever makes him feel least lonely.

---

MATIAS SILPH