death incarnate & night triumphant

The scent of her fear wafts into his nostrils, though he starts involuntarily. Her scent was intoxicating and not only that, though her body screamed at her to fear him he could scent that she wasn't entirely scared of him, there was a curiosity that so danced within her that even has Andras pausing. Watching her carefully as her spine goes ramrod straight, he arches a brow, intrigued by her sudden change of state. As her eyes meet his, he's delighted to see the challenge there that has him yearning to meet her halfway. How he wanted to show her just how terrifying her truly could be, yet... not. Andras was certain he needed to scare her off but the man had a sinking feeling that if he were to attempt to intimidate this woman, she would come back at him with as good as he gave.

Perhaps if he let those wings out for a while, that would keep her awake at night.

Immediately squashing the thought, he watches as that frown mars her features, creasing the skin between her brows. Without thinking, he reaches out a hand and brushes at the frown on her features, his fingers smoothing out the lines, his midnight eyes glancing at her emotionlessly, "You'll have wrinkles if you frown like that," he says quietly, that half smile tugging at the corner of his mouth again. Dropping his hand back to his drink, he curses himself internally for allowing himself to touch her. The sensation of her skin upon his tingles up his arm as he so desires to clench his hand into a fist, yet he allows his fingers to remain slack around his drink.

Carefully poised. Ever the cool and calculating Faerie Lord.

When she speaks his name quietly, his eyes widen a fraction of an inch as her voice clangs through him. It very nearly knocks him out of his chair as he very nearly begs her to say his name again. Sucking in a breath, he quickly plays it off as a dark chuckle, "Yes, darling?" he asks, kicking himself for being such a prick. When she extends her hand, he regards it briefly before gripping it in his much larger hand. A sort of shock races up his arm at her touch and he recoils from her hand much quicker than he would have liked, his heart hammering in his chest.

As she offers her name, Andras gives her a wicked smile, "Well, Aine dear, you have a very unusual name," he comments, noting the bluish that's beginning to creep up her neck and filtering into her cheeks, "No need to be embarrassed, you can stare all you like," he offers her a wink, lifting his drink to his lips, "I know I'm devilishly handsome," he states before polishing his drink off. Allowing their conversation to move on, he stifles that predator within him, allowing that darkness to be pulled within him as he questions her about why she was here. His eyes instantly dart to her lower lip as Aine sucks it in, chewing on it thoughtfully or perhaps nervously. Eyes darkening slightly, it is an effort to draw his midnight eyes away from her lips and to her eyes again. "And have you found yourself a little piece of home here?" he questions.

Andras knew well enough he was walking a dangerous line. He was in treacherous territory, yet the man couldn't help himself as he casually sidles a bit closer to the human woman. He decided then and there, he would ask this question and leave, he would never allow himself to see her again, but he would allow himself this bit of peace. It was the least he could do, the woman had indeed stood up to him. He could only count on one hand how many people have stood up to him before. She was utterly intriguing by the way she did not fear him, did not fear that predator that so coiled beneath his skin. Most humans would have been making an excuse to leave, to run and hide, to abandon Sacrosanct. Yet, Aine didn't. Andras was fascinated.

Andras Steinhello darling