kissing death and loosing my breath

The young witch could tell agitation within the deep voice of her companion and yet she hardly seemed perturbed by his accusation. "I don't watch television." She stated as if it was but a simple fact. For most of her life, though they had certainly had a television - such shows were beyond her allowances within her mentor's house. Every spare moment was spent being useful, learning something of value for him and the life he was so determined to fit her within. Still, she didn't argue, instead simply waiting as he contemplated the truth she'd given him. Nothing stopped him from creating those relationships that he desired - nothing but himself of course. It was that which she strove to get him to understand - that he was the only thing stopping anything from coming to fruition. She listened with such non-bias as he continued his speculations though whatever concerns he held about what title his kind of psychotic tendencies might consist of she failed to share. It did not matter to her - his brand of crazy. It did not define what he was or what he did. She knew all of those things from her own first hand experience, something she was far more willing to trust.

Her grey-tinged gaze shifted towards him as he drew the conversation back towards a topic that seemed to interest him immensely. Serafina was all too aware of the smirk that crossed his lips, clearly drawing far too much amusement from this affair then she thought was necessary. Her lips pursed together ever so slightly, ignoring the rich baritone laughter that filled the air. Serafina shrugged ever so slightly, "That's a conversation that would probably go very differently." The witch didn't bother to explain how differently things would be. She didn't bother to mention the fact that there were no parents to introduce him to nor that even if she found them, he would be the least of her worries. After all - she had been human once and now look at her. Instead, her blue-grey eyes shifted towards the shadowy figure and the thin female that he danced the tango with. She watched with only vague interest the way her hips moved as she slid against the ebony reincarnation of Davante though Serafina hardly even knew who the woman was to begin with and, quite frankly, she wasn't presently sure if she cared either.

A soft sigh left the girl's lips as Davante made an effort to beckon her closer to him. The beginning of her pyramid had already been shifted for her and slowly, Serafina too followed suit. She listened to his words, her blue-grey gaze meeting his and though the girl knew all too well what he was asking of her, even she wasn't sure if she was ready to admit exactly what she felt as far as their latest encounter went. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, her eyes drifting back toward her pyramid. "Some of them still stalk the hallways." She admitted after a moment, choose a far safer topic rather then her feelings. "I haven't mastered making them all go away yet. You can't always see them. Sometimes it's just a glimpse out of your periphery. I think they're enjoying taunting me." Delicately, Serafina took the shot glass into her hands as he refilled it, allowing her focus to remain steadfast upon his crystalline contents. She was taken off guard by the abrupt shift in their conversation. Slowly, her gaze shifted towards him from the corner of her eyes, intently watching the man as he struggled in an area he seemed just as uncomfortable admitting. It was enough to make her want to lean over - to press her lips against his and shush him with the simple affection and passion that followed suite. She might have done it too, had the memory of the sting of his rejection not surfaced to the fore front of her brain. "You could have just asked." She commented simply, choosing the eternally sarcastic route before her lips tasted the rim of the glass and the sweet liquor within.