"You don't have to like me, you know," Stark says, glancing down at the small brunette.
Lydiah starts, blinking in flutters to recover. Had she been so transparent? Embarrassment rushes blood to her cheeks. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stares hard at the elevated chute, waiting for a glimpse of her purple and pink octopus luggage. When it thumps onto the rotating belt, she follows it with her eyes, refusing to look at Stark. When the suitcase come their way, Stark snatches them in a deft movement, like a cat striking into water for fish. Instead of a wriggling, silver-backed trout, Stark places a small bag on the ground, and then shoulders the Wonder Woman backpack.
In truth, Lydiah wishes she could find kindness or affection in the loose arm Stark wraps around her shoulders, but she only sees a natural claim, an assertion of control. Swallowing hard, Lydiah follows regardless,