They Were Roommates

"True..." Ceren said, her expression reflecting Emmi's. She held no ill will for the man, but she certainly wouldn't miss the smell of him. She watched Esmé until she was seated on the cot, then knelt to close up the bag at her foot. "Sure, but it's that extra step that makes all the difference." Esmé did mostly have the right of it, though. There was often quite a fine line between the two. Ceren's own father had told her as much as he'd started teaching her his trade. It would be on them to police how far they'd be willing to stray from their morals to keep food in their bellies. Had Ceren not learned that when she'd taken up with those smugglers? Though, if she'd turned down that job... she'd have never met Esmé. A silver lining to every cloud, she thought as she watched Esmé Consider her books before turning back to the chore of packing.

She pulled her bedroll from her cot, rolling it tight, and strapped it into place on her pack. When Esmé spoke again, Ceren's ears caught the sigh that followed. She turned and considered Esmé for a moment before answering. "Caro didn't have to protect me that day we met. He could have cut and run when we had his captors distracted. That means a lot, in my book. And Genthus," Ceren looked up and smiled, "well... what you see is what you get with him." Cer chewed on the inside of her lip for a second, before pushing her bag out of the way enough to scoot over near Esmé again, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Listen, if it ever starts to feel wrong, we can always leave. There's no such thing as in too deep, ok?" Looking to the side, Ceren's eyes fell on the book Esmé hadn't packed. She picked it up, flipping idly through the pages. "This can go in my bag." she said, tossing it gently into her open pack. "I'll even let you borrow it if you ask nicely." she added, with a teasing smile.