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You've always found it rather strange, that a game made by a former Pilot favors trios. It seems out of place. Out of character.
That being said, you don't usually ramble about it. "It's just so weird." You're saying, tilting your head to the side to look over at your guest.
She's not as prim and proper as she usually is, but she's not as relaxed as you and Bloodhound are. Granted, anyone would be hard pressed to be as relaxed as you are, sprawled across your partner and half drunk. Their steady heartbeat is… comforting.
Loba swirls her wine glass around, the liquid motion making you a little dizzy. "Do you not approve of trios?" She asks, her lips curling into a smile.
"It's not that." You sigh, trying to wriggle closer to Bloodhound. "It's--" no more words come out, and you scowl.
"Pilot and Titan pairs are sacred." Hound says. "Perhaps he thinks all pairs are special."
Loba hums thoughtfully. "Maybe teams of three just make for the most fun. Two people to look out for puts more pressure than one, and having four would be too many things to keep track of."
You make a vague noise of agreement. "Is four too much?"
"It would drag out the fights more." Bloodhound says, dragging their ungloved fingers down your spine. You resist the urge to arch up into them, like an all too pleased cat. "The audience lives for the slatra, not endlessly reviving your brethren."
"Slatra." You repeat, your mimicry of their accent even lazier than usual. Maybe you're a little drunker than you thought.
Loba laughs, at least, while Bloodhound simply continues mapping out your vertebrae through your slinky "night on the town" top. Not that you actually went out. Maybe next time.
You blindly reach for the glass you set on the floor, ignoring the part of you that says you've had enough. You're not on the run anymore, you don't need to be careful 24/7.
Your fingers barely brush the rim of the glass. If you can just...
"It's empty." Loba says, sounding amused. "And that's Bloodhound's glass."
"Fuck." You whine.
Bloodhound laughs at your plight. "Poor thing."
You want to smack their chest, but that would require more effort than it's worth. You let your arm go limp, fingers brushing against the cool floor. "I am a poor thing."
"You're one of the most accomplished Legends, dating the most accomplished Legend." Loba says.
"But I am out of wine." And really, what good does being Really Good At Shooting do you? "And I didn't even plan on sticking around-- did you know that?"
"I did not." Loba seems confused by where you're going here.
"This was-- temporary. Like everything else." Except then you went and made friends with the other Legends, and then you went and fell in love with Bloth, and…
Loba, oblivious to your inner dialog, asks, "Everything else?"
"You're not the only one with a tragic backstory, Loba." You sigh, and Bloodhound murmurs words of comfort in their native tongue. You press yourself closer to their chest in response.
"Where…" Loba hesitates, like she's thinking through her next question. "What were you, before? Everyone knows about me and my parents. About Revenant."
There's a lot of interesting ways you could answer that, but all that comes out of your mouth is, "My mother was a Pilot. She and her Northstar went missing when I was still a kid."
"I never knew my… parents." Bloodhound says, audibly stumbling over the word. They look like they want to continue explaining, but they just can't. You understand.
You lean up, just a little bit, to give them a careful kiss. "It's okay. You don't need to talk about it, if you don't want."
Loba hums in agreement, and you glance over to find her throwing her legs over the arm of the loveseat. Making herself at home.
Cute.
She looks over at you with a grin, "Excuse me?"
If you were sober, the knowledge that you accidentally said that out loud would be enough to have you blushing and burying your face in Bloodhound's arms. But you're not, and the wine gives you the confidence to say, "You, getting all comfy. It's cute."
Loba's wry grin shifts, becoming something… softer. More genuine. She waves at you instead of responding verbally, and it's so cute, but you wanna hear her voice.
And what better way to get her talking than to ask, "What's the best thing you ever stole?"
Bloodhound laughs, and Loba grins wickedly. "The best thing… hmmmm."