► ciao, luce del sole.

[Eve Melona !]

(` reserved ♥)
It was the first day of March, and freakishly warm. The sky was uninterrupted blue and the sun was taking no prisoners as it bore down on New York with it's high beams on. Eve, who had been born and raised beneath the hot Italian sun, was inwardly thanking God for small miracles like sunshine as she turned off Arthur Avenue in her Range Rover. She couldn't have woken up to - after only two hours of sleep - another sad, grey, drizzly February morning; not when she had won six fights last night, drank almost as many bottles of Grappa and was still somehow riding on the leftover adrenaline boost.

She was headed toward a familiar coffee shop at present, on matters of both business and pleasure. That alone, was what was so wonderful about fighting for Neilen Darkshire - she genuinely enjoyed the work and respected the man, which made it all that much easier. He had called her up at some terribly early hour of the day and left a curt voicemail about a cup of coffee and talking a little shop. It hadn't really been an offer, because he would be there regardless, and she was expected to be there as well, and if she wasn't they would surely have words as soon as they did see each other. And so the brunette had dragged herself out of bed and thrown on a white razorback tank top and jeans that were probably dirty but somehow still snug enough that she didn't need to waste time trying to find a belt in the mess that was her massive laundry pile.

Pulling up to the curb outside of their meeting place, the Italian sighed loudly, putting the jeep in park as she flopped back against the drivers seat. Her stomach was growling awkwardly and her eyes were fucking killing her. Pushing her mirrored aviators further up her nose, she turned off her radio - which had been at absolute full blast - and yanked her keys from the ignition. Grabbing a few quarters, she stepped out of the car and shut the door behind her, giving the car a proud once-over before dropping her change in the parking meter. Eve loved her Shelby Mustang more than life, but it was a bit high profile and she was a bit too hungover to handle that incredible and utterly deafening engine roar this morning. She needed something that more or less drove itself today, and thankfully her Range Rover still had a full tank of gas from the last time Eiji had filled it up for her. God bless good friends.

Speaking of, the girl glanced up and down the sidewalk for any sign of her boss in case he had stepped out to have a smoke or wait for her, but came up empty-handed. Swallowing back a fierce yawn, she headed for the door so that she could meet her friend and satisfy her insane craving for a tall coffee and a ham and cheese croissant.

[Ϛ Neilen Darkshire]

"Mornin', sunshine."

Neilen, dressed to the nines as usual, didn't need to gesture or raise his voice; there was a grand total of one table in the tiny coffee shop, two chairs.

Neilen liked the place because it had great coffee. He liked the place because it was cozy and out of the way. But he loved it because you couldn't fit more than a handful of people in it at once, it was never busy, and the owner and woman behind the counter, Stella, was nearly deaf. It was the perfect arena in which to discuss business.

"Siddown, Eve, and take a load off. You look like hell." Neilen was fine telling it like it was because Eve knew he thought she was absolutely gorgeous; he often suggested she dump her boyfriend and move to the Caribbean with him, sleeping their days away and drinking their nights silly. Jokingly, of course — even if he truly desired her, Neilen had an immense amount of respect for just about anyone Eve liked, on principal of trusting her taste, and her faithful boyfriend was obviously near the top of her list.

Her coffee was waiting for her, and her croissant as well. The coffee was easy enough, her regular, but the croissant was a complete no-brainer — it was the only edible thing on the menu, besides the coffee, of course. But it was heavenly, and more than worth the lack of anything else that didn't taste like it had been baked by a sleeping five-year old and left out a month. The remains of his own serving littered the empty plate in front of him; he had long since moved on to his coffee.

"Lemme see your face," he said once she had taken her seat. He reached an upturned palm across the table and snapped his fingers lightly, signifying she was to surrender her chin to his grasp.

i feel like my wording is muy awkward in this, and i lost neilen's voice, but all things considered i'm pretty happy with it

[Eve Melona !]

"Hey handsome." She inflected as much cheer into her tone as possible, always happy to see Neilen despite the fact that at present she was deafeningly tired and wholly distracted by her stomach. Though, looking over at him, she couldn't help but grin. Of course he would get here before her, and of course he would order for the both of them. These were some of the reasons that Eve never minded getting up at the crack of dawn or dusk to meet Neilen in some dive across the city with little to no notice. He never failed to welcome her properly, and he always seemed glad to see her.

Sliding into the seat across from the Lycan, she let his comment roll off her shoulders, taking it as exactly what it was - a simple expression of playful concern. Raising the coffee to her lips, the girl savored a long drink, already feeling like she was returning to a semblance of normal, even though quite the opposite was probably true. Looking across the table at her friend, she smiled thankfully before tearing off the corner of her croissant and taking a bite, hoping to somehow ease the racket her stomach was raising. In retrospect, Eve made a mental note to eat something before her next match, instead of telling herself to put it off until after because after a fight, she wanted nothing to do with food or fuss, just an ice pack and a glass of fire please.

"Yeah yeah" He raised up his hand and she waved him off but at the same time knew he would remain undeterred. Swallowing the bite of sandwich with another drink of coffee, Eve reached up and removed the Aviators, setting them down on the table between them. There was an ugly purple bruise on her left cheekbone, bordered in swollen yellows and green, the left over from a nasty uppercut the night before. Other than that and the dark bags under her eyes, she looked good - as she always seemed to - with vibrant eyes and the prettiest smile in the business. Leaning forward, she stuck her tongue out before offering her jaw up to his grasp for a proper inspection.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she was wondering how much they had made the night before, but she didn't care enough to actually bother broaching the subject. Neilen would tell her if and when he felt it was necessary, as it went with all things between them.