you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared

In all hew fuming Vhalla starts at his question as to why she was so angry with Sebastian. Glancing over her shoulder to eye his retreating figure she gives a slight shrug, "It's complicated," she brushes it off easily. The assassin wasn't fond of explaining why she wasn't fond of vampires. If she told him why, there would be far too many questions she wasn't ready to answer. Instead, she takes her leave to the bathroom as the sound of the door clicks softly behind him as he prowls away. As she cranks the water on, the steam is instantaneous as it coats the mirrors in a fog and drifts about the comfortable bathroom.

Wrapping that towel about her figure, she reaches for the cloth and dips it into the near scalding water, gently trying to scrub away the caked blood on her shoulders. It only successfully has her gasping, her hand shaking as she grips the cloth tightly. Swallowing her pride, she exits the bathroom and opens the door into the hallway, glancing out the door to see Tetradore so casually reclined in her couch, that beer dangling from his hands. She watches him briefly, taking a moment to study his figure without his prying eyes. He was so different than she had expected him to be and surprisingly gentle. Honestly, the assassin was surprised he was even still here, she had offered him nothing more than being a problem.

Frowning briefly, she adjusts her grip on her towel before asking him for his help; again.

That pink tinging her cheeks momentarily before Tet rises from the couch, setting the beer on the table and following behind her back into the steaming room. When he orders her to turn around, she does so, though she has a part of her that wants to be difficult and not comply with his orders. Settling herself in as comfortable position as she can, she sits, tucking her legs under her making sure the towel is covering as much as it can. She couldn't imagine he was interested in her body, he hardly batted a lash when he all but stripped her moments ago. Again, another wave of heat hits her and her ears tinge red before she abruptly pushes the thought away. Vhalla wasn't even sure herself why she was so embarrassed.

"Thank you," she mumbles quietly, a soft sigh escaping her delicately plump lips as the feel of the warm cloth runs over her skin. She even lets her eyes fall closed for a moment, allowing a comfortable silence to engulf them. When he speaks, his voice is soft and laced with... concern? Flicking those blue eyes open, she tenses beneath his hands as he warns her to be careful. There's a biting remark on the tip of her tongue that she's urging herself to snap out, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do it. Sighing, the tension leaves her body as she slumps forward slightly, allowing the towel to relax beneath her fingers and letting it drop to expose more of her back to him.

"This is the only life I know," she says quietly a sort of tiredness entering her lyrics as she gives a small lift of her shoulder. Studying the patterns in the floor, she chases a droplet of water around with her finger, her hair falling forward to shadow her face. "My ma- well, it doesn't matter who told me, I was simply told I was expected to die young in my line of work and since then I've accepted that. There's not a lot of things that particularly interest me in this world anyways," again, another shrug. Straightening slightly, she reaches up a calloused hand to lay across Tetradore's own as he cleans a spot on her shoulder.

"Thanks again, I don't think I would have gotten home without you're help. I owe you one," she says quietly, enjoying the warmth of his hand seeping through her own chilled fingers. Realizing she is still resting her petite hand on his, she snatches her hand away to clutch the towel. "You can go now, I can take care of the rest."

Vhalla Solarn

To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered