blood moon, marc spector

seven.

LILITH LOOKED BACK UP FROM HER DRINK AS FRENCHIE STARTED TALKING ABOUT THE COMPLICATIONS OF RENEWING HIS PILOT'S LICENSE.  "is it really that difficult?" she asked. "can't you just.. renew it like a drivers license?"

frenchie let out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head. "oh, if only." he said with a grunt. "unfortunately, i have to take an additional written and physical test to renew it. i tried doing it a month ago and failed both."

"you failed both?" charles raised a brow.

"by a thin margin." he clarified, as if it made the situation less comical or less embarrassing.

lilith shook her head. "how did you manage to fail both?" 

"well," he began, taking a swig of his drink before continuing. "written test, i wasn't fully familiar with some of the updated protocol. you know how they're always changing shit. and the physical test... let's just say i could've landed the plane better."

"you crash landed in your license renewal?" lilith asked.

"i should be scheduled to take it again in a week or so, and i'll get it this time." frenchie said.

lilith shook her head. "seriously?"

"i know." frenchie sighed. "trust me, i'm just as disappointed as you are."

"maybe you've lost your touch, duchamp." remy said.

frenchie rolled his eyes. "please. i don't 'lose my touch', okay? i'm just a bit out of practice. i'll get it next week for sure."

lilith chuckled, taking another sip of her drink. the other men around the table laughed as well, all amused by frenchie's overconfidence. 

"oh, go to hell, all of you." frenchie said, though he was laughing along with them.

marc had left to do who knows what about five minutes prior, and lilith had to admit that she felt less of a weight on her shoulders as soon as he was gone. he had a way of dampening any mood, like some eternally soggy blanket. 

she'd be lying, though, if she said that marc weren't an attractive guy. maybe. well, he could be attractive, if he could wipe that damn frown off of his face for once in his life. he was too stern, too serious. while lilith wasn't necessarily the life of the party herself, she found marc's constant seriousness off-putting, almost. 

never once had she seen him truly smile. not a smirk at her exposure, not a huff of slight amusement-- a genuine smile. she didn't know if his face was even capable of it. if his brows were ever able to be plucked away from their constant quizzical, analytical furrow. 

despite his overall lack of charm, though, she'd seen moments where his hair had fallen into his face in the middle of a fistfight. when his scowl was less dominant. and, in those minute moments, she could see that maybe he had a physical attribute to him that wasn't entirely repulsive.

still, the comments that charles, remy, and even frenchie had made about the two of them was bothering her.

she could not see her and marc ever getting through one civil conversation without a jab at each other, much less getting married. they'd kill each other, undoubtedly. 

but it wasn't even the proposition that they got hitched that bothered lilith. she was, for some reason, extremely uncomfortable by the suggestion that she and marc spector were similar people.

sure, they had the same job. sure, they were both incredibly closed off and spent most of their time in their separate apartments, doing who knows what away from everyone. and maybe they were both considered the two best mercenaries in jabez' team, maybe even in the whole world.