they argued my right to ascension

For half a moment, little more than a heartbeat the blonde Hunter truly believed she may very well reject his offer, as surely she should, the delicate raven haired creature seeming to linger upon the precipice of indecision. She would be right to reject him, to tell him to leave- perhaps find some magical spell to cast after him on his way. He is designed to be her nightmare and little else, crafted to bring about the end of creatures like her and yet to look upon her was to have every memory, every thought and feeling for the one being he had truly love pulled almost violently to the surface of his being. Serafina is not Evelyn, he knows this un-assuredly, so many things about the little witch were so truly different from the girl he had once loved and yet within that same breath he found himself made fond of her all the same, even if his initial attraction, perhaps, had been towards this near perfect mirror image of a women he spent over thirty years beside. The moment of hesitation within the girl was fleeting at best, some part of himself half given to consider that surely it should have been longer, that surely she would not allow him to take her so very easily. He is, after all, undeserving of any of her attention, much less affection. He is designed to oppose her and little else and yet it was almost as if she were utterly willing to embrace the arms of death itself- the very thing for which he had so been named all those years ago. Shouldn't she resist a little more at least? Was she truly going to come so very easily? Did she....truly hold some sort of actual affection for him?

He is not so utterly blind as he appears or strives to be, those delicate strands of affection the witch has dared to attempt to attach hardly unnoticed despite the cool indifference she is so often affronted with in response. It is merely a defence, an age old defence he clings too so readily in an effort to prevent the inevitable and yet it would seem in this instance he has failed once more- not so entirely, not yet and yet despite such realisations he remains entirely unwilling to ignore her permanently as he should- the woman easily drawn against the hard plans of his chest as her fingers grace his own. Long fingers intertwine softly with her own, his free hand moving to rest softly upon her hip in that same feather light touch as always- as if truly he fears to hold her too firmly. That sense of static that dances upon his skin, an irritation to every fibre, is ignored, pushed backwards and away- forcing aside that instinct that afflicts all of the Hunter breed to a certain extent- one they say becomes easier to ignore with age and yet...if that were true, how was it Hunter's like Kohl, barely more then a year of age could look upon a vampire, or warlock or were and simply turn away? His own instincts had always been...stronger in that regard, just as his determination to ignore them now.

This dance was one he knew easily enough- one he had known since his youngest years. Something classic, traditional and so far removed from the more modern style of dance he had ceased entirely to try and understand. He knows how to dance in the fashion he is assured it should be done, an almost intimate affair that sees the woman guided smoothly across her lounge room floor with faultless easy, leading her entirely as he had been taught from the age of five before spinning her gently to return her hand to his own.

"It irritated me to have you think of my dancing skills...poorly. It is one of the few things I actually do well, or so I'm told."

The barest hint of a smile existed somewhere upon his lips, if only for a fleeting moment, drawing the young witch back towards himself once more. There is a stiffness....a tautness to his frame that perhaps betrays some sense of discomfort that exists still within him to be inside the home of a creature he has spent countless years seeking to destroy and yet so many years of wariness cannot simply be overcome in a matter of moments- despite his willingness to allow her touch upon him after all this time. It is easy to guide her back to the centre of the room where they had begun, the fleeting glances she offered hardly unnoticed by the often apathetic Hunter. She reminded him of a girl, a shy little girl whose innocence was so wholly fragile he was almost afraid to hold her to tightly- almost the way he remembered women being all those years ago. He is almost reluctant to release her and yet letting go has perhaps become his most potent quality, stepping smoothly back from her as those final notes of the song were given to finish. She had...smooth skin, softer then he remembered and yet for now he remains unwilling to actually indulge those thoughts lest they stir upward a more....basal desire he has refused to indulge in for some time- a need any man would be given to have in the presence of such a woman, such a desire...utterly terrifying in itself and for a moment he is almost pleased to have that small amount of space between them before the gold of his gazes drops at last to her own.

"I hope that was at least a little better than my efforts from that fucking awful party. Although really I think I should have shown you my quick step."

There is some hint of amusement lingering within the words he offers, some indication that perhaps somewhere within existed a man entirely capable of a humour he had very near forgotten he possessed, lashings of white gold hair tumbling into his eyes once more, the result of the snow and wind having unhinged any efforts he had made to neaten it.

"If this the one night I am not following the rules I suppose I am obligated to ask you if there is anything you actually desire from me before fate or society or whatever it is that makes me what I am demands I leave you in peace? I am a...selfish person when I desire to be, you remind me of someone I....cared about once and I think I've taken enough from you tonight- is there anything you want from me?"

Azrael Evero

only fools walk where angels fear to tread