Tess-as-Archer did not usually get so close to anyone, not while pretending to be a man – it was for business meetings, usually, and if she brushed past anyone it was only the boys in the printshop, who knew her well for who she was. She didn’t know if it was still the adrenaline of the pit that had nearly killed her sending her pulse racing, or an adrenaline of the deception, the different perception – a lie, dangerous but freeing at the same time – but she felt almost pleased by it. Who knew why: her mind was a mess here.
“I’d ask what’s in it, but – whatever it is, I do,” Tess shrugged, expelling a shaky laugh with the rest of the unsteady breaths, and took the flask from him without waiting for an answer – another thing that was more acceptable as Archer than as a woman, brazenly swigging liquor in the streets. (Here was probably an exception to that, regardless: it had been a narrow miss with fate.)
“Well, I’m not dead yet,” she joked dryly, after swallowing the sip of drink. She was almost afraid to look back over her shoulder at the destruction – she was not sure she would be able to believe her eyes – so she looked over at her saviour instead. “What even happened?”
“I’d ask what’s in it, but – whatever it is, I do,” Tess shrugged, expelling a shaky laugh with the rest of the unsteady breaths, and took the flask from him without waiting for an answer – another thing that was more acceptable as Archer than as a woman, brazenly swigging liquor in the streets. (Here was probably an exception to that, regardless: it had been a narrow miss with fate.)
“Well, I’m not dead yet,” she joked dryly, after swallowing the sip of drink. She was almost afraid to look back over her shoulder at the destruction – she was not sure she would be able to believe her eyes – so she looked over at her saviour instead. “What even happened?”
