Ah. There he is. The Phonos who had come to retrieve her from Helenus’ apartment and whom she had decided needed to address his human side. Still, he is gentle in his retreat, firm as though his grip may be, and she allows for him to put the space between them—or at least as far as the wall of the box would allow. “I know well what you are,” she says, meeting that stare with her own, albeit less distant. “and I would not ask you to do such a thing that you would not desire.” Melinoe’s brow had arched at the ‘boyfriend’ term. It reminded her of her mother’s relationship with Adonis, whom she could not care less for. She would not bring further comment about a soft heart, for she is certain that discussion would lead to nowhere, and in a hurry.

But he kisses her again, and that she will allow him (not that she would find it terribly difficult to deny him much of anything, truth be told). Meli would be a liar if she denied that she had enjoyed every touch of his lips, every brush of his breath on her skin, though she almost wishes that he hadn’t done that very thing again. It served only to reignite the fire within that she had been trying to frantically extinguish. His quiet dominance in telling her how the restaurant would be picked does not help her inner predicament in the least, and the groan of the elevator coming back to life manages to at least put the thoughts traipsing around her mind on hold.

She can only nod as the elevator fan starts blowing again, and the thing jerks back to life to restart its journey to the original destination. “I will let you know,” is her response as she pulls away from his grasp on her shoulders to pick up her coat and purse from the floor of the elevator, briefly forgetting the fact that Phonos is currently the most exposed in a public space he’s ever been. His shirt remains unbuttoned, and gods only knew what people would consider about them being together in a stalled elevator, anyway.

“Your shirt, Phonos…”