they argued my right to ascension

It is a fortunate thing, perhaps, that the raven haired woman makes no effort to enlighten him upon the potential existence of a spectral being seated within the depths of his apartment- the hunter never truly having adapted to the existence of supernatural beings he could see let alone those predisposed to invisibility. Had he been aware of the warlock within his apartment he would surely have failed to sleep for the next several nights through his efforts to eradicate it. At worst he would have been forced to move if the presence had proved to difficult to eliminate. Some things are better entirely unknown and yet the golden depth of his gaze narrows upon her with suspicion all the same. Her shrug doing little to ease his suspicion as his gaze moves to survey the room ever so briefly- the sudden incident with the pot seeming to result in his already tense form very near flying to the opposite side of the room in anticipation of some sort of assault before the frigid pan manages to draw his gaze once more and an irritable snort is forced from his lips to match her own- though for surely a different reason entirely. The woman's perusal of the take out menu he offers her at least allows him a moment to gather himself once more. He is hardly a nervous being, more so, he simply remains continually expectant of some form of attack at any moment, perhaps yet another contributing factor to his near constantly irritable mood and lack of patience with those around him. Relaxation, it would seem, is a long eluded state of being for the young man.

It is an entirely different line of thought however that seems to result in the sudden extension of his hand, seeking her own now, her momentary hesitation met with his usual abrupt reply before she seeks to scold him in a manner that has become almost usual for the pair, her words met with the slight raising of a single brow.

"I lack quite a lot of virtues- why everyone is surprised by that I will never know."

Perhaps it was his near angelic name that so seemed to afford other this belief in his supposed divinity or pureness of character, neither of which was an accurate representation of the often standoffish man he had become. He is rewarded in due course however, with the placement of her hand in his own, the man refusing to allow his palm to flinch from her own despite the effort he is still required to demand of himself in response. It would forever be a marvel to him, truly, how woman managed to maintain such soft hands, his own gaze narrowing slightly with the thoughts that linger within it. It truly had been some time since he had enjoyed a woman's hands, much less offered them any true appreciation- the man catching himself, hurriedly, before his thoughts are inclined to wander elsewhere- summoning his own power readily now until his manipulation of light seems to result in the faintest of glows emanating from his form.

"You have an...aura of sorts I suppose you would call it, all supernatural beings do, its what allows my kind to distinguish between all the others, I can sense a Witch or a Were or a Vampire easily enough, some more potently then others though I am getting better at....ignoring yours."

He frowned slightly, this was hardly something he blamed her for, after all- she could no more change her species then she could arrange the stars in the sky- he merely seeks to explain himself to an extent- a trait he had never been particularly adapt in.

"I have no desire to harm you, though there are parts within myself that respond to what you are all the same, I simply do not act upon them and slowly they are becoming more distant- at least with you and I....like that, I think. Though I wondered, was curious really, to see if my power might be able to....hide your aura in a fashion. Just stay still."

He had no desire, as he had said, to bring any harm to her and as such failed to see any way in which his own power could damage her, merely allowing that softly glowing light to slip from his form to encircle her own, thin tendrils of light dancing feather light across her skin until the young witch is very near outlined in the softest of lights.

"Hmm."

It is little more than a murmur of satisfaction with his own work, lip quirking upward into a smile so rarely seen as his very form seems to relax- another soft glow of light rapidly encircling himself. If he could block her...signature in such a fashion then he should surely be able to block his own until she felt nothing to indicate his existence as a Hunter and he in turn was left with no sense of her supernatural form- his light ability, used in such a manner, seeming to hide both supernatural auras until they are left simply- as themselves.

"The last time I looked at anyone and saw them for who they were- not what they were was over eighty years ago. Hunter senses block things sometimes....."

His words are little more the a murmur. How very...fickle such barriers seemed when they were removed, far more thoughts then he desired twisting within his mind, the man unaware he was still holding her hand lightly within his own in an effort to maintain the flow of light around each of them, dim though it was.

"You look almost radiant."

The tease within his words is so faint it is almost missed and yet even this momentary lapse in her signature brought about by his own powers sees the man.....relax more than he has truly ever done, each Hunter instinct simply letting go. He cannot change her anymore then he can change himself and yet for this single moment it is....refreshing to feel the way he had done before he had been made into this thing that he was- the man lacking any desire to harm her- even those instincts so deeply ingrained no longer bark and whine at him to react in her presence. For a moment his gaze deviates, resting briefly on the still frozen pan before he sighs.

"Maybe we can salvage this yet."

Azrael Evero

only fools walk where angels fear to tread