It was his comment about dancing that causes another knowing smile to spread across her face, she supposed if William here could be so confident in his skills, then she would grace him with hers as well. The assassin was not the type of woman to give half ass attempts, she would always give it her all even when she had no desire to do so. "Like you said, I have a fabulous partner," she laughs quietly, their breath mingling, "But I could lead you across this dance floor just as well, I'm sure," she purrs at him utterly confident in her words.

She watches him chewing over his previous words nearly appalled that he had called the witch sexy. The was a noun that was not in her vocabulary and she was surprised to hear the compliment. It was something she would let slide and she would continue to allow the Hunter to call her his little pet names. It didn't cause the same distress as it did from her master. And as their gazes lock she lets him kiss her deeply, enjoying the way his lips moved on hers, how she was so utterly helpless in his presence. Wrapped in his arms she felt warm.

Vhalla doesn't notice when his hands begin to travel her body and she is shocked by the way the British man rips away from her. Startled, she pulls back, her brows furrowed in confusion as she watches him, suddenly wondering if she did something wrong or pushed the man too far. Listening to him speak her name in question, she then feels where his hands were exactly. Stiffening beneath his touch then she drops her hands from his shoulders to her sides, a guarded expression snapping across her features.

As she begins to pull away from him she hears him asking who had done this to her. Feeling his hand tighten on her and pull her closer she hides her shock behind her careful neutral expression. The fact that the man was not disgusted by her deformed body simply amazed her and she couldn't stomach the concern dancing in his eyes. How the assassin hated pity. She was not some broken doll to be pieced back together and surely that's what Will was thinking, Vhalla was certain.

Attempting to twist half-heartedly out of his grip again, she feels him pull her closer as she tenses again. "I told you, Will, I am not the flawless woman you think I am," she answers him bitterly her eyes narrowed up at the man she was just kissing moments ago. The heated moment was decidedly gone now with the mention of her scars as she finally twists away from him and slips from his arms taking a step away to put distance between them.

"It happened a long time ago. That's what happens when you disobey orders," she says resentfully crossing her arms across her chest and looking away from him. She didn't want to see the pity in his eyes, the assassin wasn't sure what she would do if she found it there. She was certain he was hiding disgust somewhere in his features as well, again, something she truly did not want to see. Hearing the door open she glances over her shoulder to see a man walking with their food and there is an almost awkward silence as he places the dishes on the table, the aroma filling the cozy room.

Normally such smells would whet the assassin's appetite but she was decidedly not hungry as the waiter than refilled the wine glasses and left. Giving the two privacy once again, she was relieved that Hannah had not been the one to deliver the food. The older woman knew Vhal well enough to recognize as something wrong with the witch and she didn't particularly want any observers on their conversation. Finally, she lets her hardened gaze travel back to William, her face holding a harshness that wasn't there before, it was a face, young by modern day standards, yet her eyes held such age and bitterness that a woman as young as she should not have experienced in her life. But this was her life, something Will would have to understand and accept.

"This is not who I am," she gestures to the fancy dress and shoes, her flowing white hair, "This is who I am trained to be. That woman you ran into the alley way, that's who I am. I am hired to kill people, to go under cover and be whoever they want me to be. I have no ownership over my own life," her voice raises in a snarl her words coated in venom, directed at Will but it was clear that the man wasn't the reason behind her anger. Perhaps, if she was cruel enough he would walk away from her now, though selfishly she hoped her wouldn't, the assassin had never taken anything she wanted for herself and even with Will finding her mutilated back she desperately wanted him to understand.