"The fact that you think a woman, covered in blood and scars, is beautiful; well, I think that would be up for discussion."

Sebastian comes to mind and floods his current thoughts when she says that to Darien, and a curious expression of realization washes over him. He did have some infatuation with blood and people who were quite too much for him to handle and he feels quite shameful about it. But not about his attraction. In fact, he wonders what the vampire was doing right now. Probably finding his next lay. The sting of jealousy hits the Fae hard at the thought, and his attention returns to the witch with white hair beside him. "No need to apologize." When he feels her head rest against him, those damn butterflies in his stomach come back to life.

He was so nervous. But he still lacks any assurance to act on the things he was feeling. He missed Seb, but he also had this new infatuation growing rapidly with each passing second with this woman. So he just sits there awkwardly but not protesting her closeness.

Listening to her story, and boy, was it one hell of a story, he thinks about resting his own head on hers but doesn't. He listens intentively and full of inquisitiveness. He absorbs it all, and eagerly waits for her to finish before asking, "So, you're like some thief or rob-?" He doesn't get to finish before that asshole outside begun knocking. Even injured she was fast and talented, jumping in front of him and ready to pounce like a great lioness. In fact, her sudden movement scares the shit out of him even more. She puts herself between the door, as if she was .. protecting him? No, stop reading into this too much. That vodka had his head buzzing more now, and it was filling him with spunk and desire. An appetite he normally repressed. He wanted to believe he was seeing signs that pointed to similar feelings he was experiencing.

Needless to say, he was quite clumsy this time helping her put her suit back on from the buzz he was feeling. He flings his jacket over the left of his shoulder as he nervously clamps and zips her back up, looking at the scars on her back with sadness still in his heart.

Nobody deserved that.

As she staggered to her little cache of weapons, he watches her carefully put them in their assigned spots. Still impressed with how she managed to get them all on and in that suit. He notices the dagger as she slips it into her boot. "Vhalla, eh?" Never heard that name before. He rolls his eyes in jest as she continues to call him Tinkerbell (or rather just Tink now). "I need to find you a nickname." Again, the fairy wasn't going to admit that he liked hearing it from her lips.

Her next words, however, are a bit of a letdown. Leave? Was it some ploy to try and protect him? Or was this some other alternative motive he wasn't seeing? "Leave? Hey, you said you needed help with where ever you needed going and I ain't gonna just go until I know you're safe. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I just left." Holding his jacket, he gets an idea and he hands it back to her. "Here, wear this. Those men are still looking for you, right? They know what you look like and are wearing probably. I bet they won't even think twice if we walk out of here looking like a drunk couple." He helps her put it back on (fully this time, with arms in the sleeves). Darien is extremely gentle with helping her injured arm. "I mean, you wobbling around as it is you already look drunk." Her gives her a teasing smile. "I need to make sure you're drunk ass gets home."

And that white hair. She'll stick out like a sore thumb. "Maybe you should put that hood back on, too, Snow White. Hey, there you go! Snow White!"

Putting his arm around her, gripping under her armpit and on her waist with his left hand, he tries to make it look like they are just that; a drunk couple calling it a night. Before he unlocks the door, he looks at down at her with heavy breaths. He feels chivalrous. Like a guardian, for that's how he felt. "These men, anything I should know before going out there? They look like those gangster henchmen in the movies or are they gonna look like any douchebag that belongs in a place like this?" He is so close to her he could smell the shampoo in her hair, the blood, her general scent. It was delicate and feminine. "I don't know where you want me to take you, so just tell me which way to go, okay? I mean, if you need to call someone, I have a room at a motel. You could use the phone there, and I have some medicine." That sounds weird ... like I'm some creep. "Or if you have some friends, I could just take you to them. Doesn't matter how far. Hell, I'll get us a cab when we get out of here."