Our Existence Is Scandal

✦4✦

"So, the crash that shook the northern region earlier, was you?" Tempest chortled.

She'd begun to warm up to us a bit more once we'd redirected the questions away from her and her planet and focused more on ourselves. She'd found it hilarious how I'd managed to have been outsmarted by Astra who was pretty smug about it too.

Her sobbing in my arms and begging me to pull her up clearly absent from her memory.

When we'd arrived at her current settlement Tempest offered to clean up our injuries, she asked it to both of us, but her eyes were focused on me. Or rather the cut in my eyebrow she'd reopened when she was checking the shade of my blood.

She apologized for being a bit dramatic too and insisted if she was truly trying to kill us Deimos would've just done so.

Very comforting words.

I flinched away from her hands as she dabbed too hard over my eye, You can thank Astra over there for that one," I shot her a glare "Can't drive for shit."

She pointed the bottle of liquid that Tempest had given her at me "You try drive a ship after someone has put their fist through it," She scoffed, opening the lid "Whining over a little scratch over your eyebrow," She mocked before raising up her sling "Some of us, broke bones!"

"Her first one too," I cooed, rubbing fake tears out of my eyes.

Tempest giggled putting a plaster over eyebrow "Crash? I haven't had one of those either."

I shook my head "Not ship crash silly, broken bone. Today is the first time she's ever broken a bone!" I chuckled, "Very sentimental moment."

"No!" Tempest's face dropped in disbelief, and she turned her golden eyes to Astra who was still pouting, "No way!"

Astra turned the cap of the bottle, opening it "It's not my fault you people snap like sticks," She rolled her eyes before taking a large gulp and sighing afterwards "Besides, I have an invulnerability ability."

Tempest wrung out the cloth she was using to clean us up in a dish "Or maybe no one's ever hit you hard enough," She snickered, lifting the dish to go discard the blue stained contents. I felt like telling her that my blood was never washing out of that cloth, and it was almost like a dye but refrained as she would be finding that out soon anyway.

She'd barely walked a few miles in her suit before she zipped it down hallway and let it hang over her hips. I wanted to comment on its inconvenience considering the climate, but didn't, as something told me if she wanted to, she wouldn't be wearing it at all. Unfortunately for her legs she left the suite hanging there and gave her upper body a chance to breathe as she was now adorned in what looked like many torn cloths that she'd tied together to wrap tightly against her torso.

The shades of brown went from underarm to upper waist and even crisscrossed over her shoulders, covering most of her back but setting her shoulders free. Her tan flesh was marked by small black dots all over her arms, marks I originally assumed were freckles of some sort but only when she was near me did, I realize all of them were slightly raised and puckered.