Going for a walk

[onceaviking]

 He arrives shortly after sundown, looking much like the night before. He's added a coat to his ensemble though. Not that he needs it. 
He has several possible plans in mind, but for now he is waiting to see how Miss Potts will react. 

She seemed like an odd mix of confident and hesitant and that is certainly something he can work with. 

Comments

[othereight]

She isn't entirely sure what compels her - no one will ever claim that Pepper Potts doesn't do anything she doesn't want to do - but that being said, it feels as though she's moving in a trance as she reaches out to touch his jaw, fingers sliding along cool skin.

"Good," she whispers, smiling faintly.

[onceaviking]

He turns his head a fraction, just enough to make her fingers touch his lips.

They too are cold. And dry. Not dry the way a human's lips might be dry and chapped. Cool and smooth.

[othereight]

She doesn't tense so much as quietly shivers, her eyes less on his and more on the shape of his mouth when he shifts and her fingertips inadvertently trace it.

"Sorry," she replies, beginning to pull her hand away with a renewed blush.

[onceaviking]

"Don't, " he whispers, reaching one hand up to touch hers. Keeping it in place.

"Don't apologize. "

That blush is maddening. It makes his fangs ache.

[othereight]

"Alright," she replies, hushed, her gaze finally lifting to his even as her fingertips hover, unsure of where to move next.

[onceaviking]

He moves, just a little, and presses a soft kiss to the trip of her index finger, his eyes closed.

[othereight]

His lips are as cool as the rest that she's felt so far, and she finds herself drawn in, hypnotized.

She leans in - but stops just short of actual contact, her face hovering near his.

[onceaviking]

He slowly opens his eyes, looking deep into hers, as he lets his fingers slide across her cheek. They come to rest just at the edge of her hairline, his little finger feeling the pulse behind her earlobe.

[othereight]

She almost feels too hot in her own skin, feverish in comparison, her cheeks bright as she smiles for a second, fleetingly.

"I don't do this - all the time," she feels the need to say out loud, partly as a reassurance to herself.

[onceaviking]

" I know," he murmurs and then he closes the distance between their lips.

It's nice in a way. Make believe.

[othereight]

His lips are cool, a shock to the system after the heated of her drink and her own mouth, soft and warm, part against his, a gentle brush.

Her hand slides to cup his cheek, thumb brushing across the prominent cheekbone, and she sighs quietly.

[onceaviking]

His free hand moves across her shoulder blade and down her back. Her spine is so fragile beneath his fingers. Delicate. Easy to crush.

His hand stops at the small of her back, pulling her closer, as his tongue moves across the revealed softness of her upper lip. Cool and dry like his lips.

[othereight]

He pulls her in, not hard enough to knock her off her seat but enough so that she slides in a little, her knee brushing against the outside of his thigh.

She doesn't just do this, she isn't that kind of girl, but her lips part almost instantly for his tongue and her hand slips down to grab a small fistful of her shirt as she whimpers, softly but incriminating enough.

[onceaviking]

Oh, what sweet music she makes.

He can smell the blood swell in her veins. Smell her eagerness. But he dare not ask her yet. She might turn his advances down - and he isn't certain he will be able to control himself.

So he deepens the kiss, stroking her hair.

[othereight]

There is a beat, however brief, where she considers the possibility of what might happen if her employer was to walk into the Bar at this very moment. But then she pushes all of those thoughts aside, Tony Stark forgotten once more, and breaks the kiss with a small chuckle.

"Well, that was - something," she murmurs, smiling slowly.

[onceaviking]

"Yes, " he murmurs, hoarsely.

He strokes the back of his fingers down the side of her face. And her neck.

" You're beautiful, " he says, and then he turns his head away briefly. His fangs ache.

[othereight]

In the aftermath, her pulse will flutter under his fingertips before he turns his head away.

She glances at him, a visible frown filtering over her features.

"Is everything alright?"

[onceaviking]

" I do not wish to frighten you," he says, his eyes still turned away.
"When I feel - attraction to someone my fangs... "

[othereight]

"Oh."

In that moment, she's almost struck by the humor in it, and while she doesn't laugh, she smiles.

"Is that all it is?"

[onceaviking]

He looks back at her, one eyebrow slightly raised. "This doesnot trouble you?"


Oh, but he is in luck.

[othereight]

"Well, I can't say it's not a little - strange, but it's not the strangest thing I've heard of," she replies.

She's pretty good at taking things in stride.

[onceaviking]

He lets them drop, pulling his lips back a little as he does so. They are clearly pointy.

Looking into her eyes.

[othereight]

"Wow," she murmurs, a nervous chuckle slipping past her lips.

"They look - sharp," she adds, for lack of anything better to say.

[onceaviking]

" They are," he says as he takes one of her hands in his and lifts it to his lips. "But I can be careful. "

He presses small butterfly kisses to her fingertips and knuckles.

[othereight]

The contrast between how sharp his fangs look and how gentle he is with her, how tender, is almost too striking for her to ignore, and it's almost as if the temperature of her blood rises in response.

There's another ache too, rising embarrassingly lower. She doesn't need her body reminding her of how long it's been since she's done this.