Avanya scoffed, leaning back slightly, hands gripping the edge of the mattress. "Laying low?" she echoed, her tone laced with disbelief. "That's just a fancy way of saying you're running from something."
Eryx let out a slow sigh, rolling his shoulders before slouching back into the chair by the window. The weak sunlight barely filtered through the heavy curtains, casting long shadows across his face. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, then met her gaze with a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"You always assume the worst about me, Anya."
"Because I know you." She didn't break eye contact, watching him carefully. "And I know when you're bullshitting me."
Eryx chuckled, but there was tension in the way his fingers drummed against his knee. "Alright, fine. Let's say, hypothetically, I am running from something. Why then did you think this is the right time to meet me?"
