death incarnate & night triumphant

This waste of space of a human. Andras wanted to obliterate him from where he sat, those usually never present shadows, curling over his shoulders, small and unnoticeable. He can feel the puzzlement emanating from Lani, though she does a relatively good job at hiding it. The shock that creeps over the human man's face, that very look makes Andras want to punch the man's teeth down his throat, but he refrains, his mask set in that cool, calm way of his, albeit, edged with a but of danger looking in his eyes. Most men would run at that look he was giving and yet, this man was far too arrogant to understand the predator that stood before him. Shadows swirl in Andras's hair, creeping through the strands, threatening to explode from his body as the man questions Lani in such disbelief. "She starts on Monday," he says smoothly, his very stance relaxed at the table, despite the promise of violence radiating from his dark eyes. That very gaze remains on the man, deciding just how much he was going to allow this man to continue to disrespect Lani.

Andras then calls him out on his outright disrespect, the human barely giving a shrug of indifference, his self entitlement wafting off him. Again, those shadows curl around Andras, still discreet though noticeable if someone was truly looking. Clearly, this human was not smart enough to look or care to see. "You would be wise to check your tone with the lady, as well as me," and that was power radiating from Andras, that very magic he kept so locked within himself, threatening to snap its leash, "As far as I'm concerned, this is a public space and therefore not a private conversation," Andras slashes a dangerous smile at the human and still he looks unfazed, still does not understand the predicament he was in. He's entirely aware of Lani, desperately wanting to melt into her chair, embarrassed beyond belief and yet, Andras was angry at the situation, angry that his shy but spirited fae mate was not standing up for herself. He has to rein in a snarl that threatens to crawl out of his throat as the man continues to demand answers from Lani.

"A very dear friend of mine that doesn't need constant disrespect," he answers coolly, that mask slipping slightly as rage peers through. Andras finally turns away from the man, that mask of rage falling on Lani, eyes full of death and violence as he dismisses the man seated, entirely, surely enough to irk him. Extending an arm to Lani, he waits for her to take it before helping the woman to her feet, "I'll be taking her for the night," he says, just as the man stands up suddenly, opening his mouth in outrage, though Andras is quicker, "Sit down, boy," he snarls, his voice laced with pure command and dominance. And clearly, the boy finally understood the promise of violence in his eyes, his voice. His mouth snaps shut and he sits down promptly, almost comically fast. Andras stares him down for a moment longer before breaking into his mind, If you so much as speak to her again, look at her again, I will break your fingers one by one and gut you and throw you in the god damn river for the fish to feast on, Andras snarls into his mind, She is mine and won't tolerate anymore disrespect from you or anyone else, he conveys the message just as the boy goes pale, seemingly understanding who, or more importantly, what he was messing with.

"I'm glad we are at an understanding," Andras says out loud after a moment, a feral smile curling at his lips, so very different from the taunting and teasing ones he so offered Lani. And just to add a little salt to the wound, he turns slightly, "Excuse me miss, please send his bill to my card on file," the waitress nods, wide eyed and scurries off behind the bar to jot down a note. Andras turning back to the man, he can see the rage that warily filters across the boy's face, though at least he's smart enough to not respond, "Have a lovely evening," he says before leading Lani out of the fancy establishment and prying eyes. The cool air does nothing to rid the rage that still lingers fiercely within him, he continues walking in silence with Lani in tow. After long minutes, he pauses, glancing down at her, that anger still wafting off him as he finally notes the bare shoulders, the small dress that he had bought her. Releasing her arm, he shrugs out of his jacket and lays it across her shoulders silently before shoving both hands into his pockets. That very rage still engulfs him, his shadows twining across his shoulders, his hair, perhaps a bit larger than they were within the confines of the restaurant, and still he says nothing.

Andras Steinhello darling