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Eva sits down next to Xavier one day after she comes home from work. It’s late and dark: there's no game tonight, so he's just sitting there in y-fronts and a dirty bathrobe, lackadaisically playing some stupid game with zombies in it. She spent the whole day fighting with people about their orders—marketing keeps promising people shit, the fuckers—and it's relaxing, chilling on the couch lazily watching Xavier mow down a bunch of flesh-eating monsters while Doug cooks.
“Boned this girl last night,” he offers up between headshots. It's casual, easy—they're friends, the kind of friends who drink and talk shit about each other. He's stopped calling her a puck bunny and in return she's stopped asking if the test results came in okay.