It is both easy and difficult to look Archer in the eyes as she dodges the truth, hiding so many things from him in her quest for personal gain. On the one hand, she wants nothing more than to prove herself worthy of the title she had been born into. Yet there it is, that flicker of something else - not affection, but a primal desire that has her belly burning with fire for want to brush her fingers across his throat, bury her nose into the dip of his collarbone so that she might inhale more of the scent of him, the scent that surrounds her now as the fabric of his hoodie swallows her up.

Blaise has never known love, but she is not a stranger to the cravings of lust. Most of her kind were of the same sentiment, their primordial nature driving their intentions.

Were she not more driven to achieve her initial goal, she might've allowed her appetite to win out. Instead, she grounds herself with the sound of his voice as he reassures her that he is more than happy to help, despite his words warring with his previous hesitation. Apparently, something about her performance had worked - she'd effectively softened him to her presence, and the thought of this made the sweet smile she gave him that much easier to bare. "Thank you," she murmurs, burrowing deeper into his sweater so that the hood scrunches around her ears, her features softening as she curls into the warmth.

"I was taking a stroll when you found me," he says, and she frowns, thinking that an odd reason to be in the park at night but too distracted by his scent swirling in her nostrils, taking root in her lungs to think too deeply on it. She is content to go along with his elusive explanation for now - planning to prod more later - when he gasps sharply.

It is instinct that drives the feral snarl to rip from her mouth, her teeth baring in sudden alarm. Had she been distracted and missed a threat closing in on them? Her eyes are sharp, brightened to a startling green with the sudden alertness of a hunter. She scans their surroundings quickly, assessing for danger; her ears catching nothing more than the sound of him panting as if pained, and there is nothing to be seen but the two of them standing together, two strangers converging at a pivotal moment in both of their lives, whether they could see it now or not.

The tension eases slowly from her, evaporating like water in the summer heat as she realizes their is no outward attack on his person, though confusion replaces it and she turns her gaze back to him, her eyes scanning him quickly before locking with his own. He speaks, but she hears him as if she were under water, his voice muffled by the pounding of adrenaline in her ears. It takes her a moment to puzzle what he's said and when she deigns to reply, her words are guarded.

"I'll take you to my place in Hawethorn Village. But first, please enlighten me on why you sound like you are dying, Archer" she says, her voice clipped and strained, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. She takes his hands in hers gently, her thumbs sliding over the backs of them, brushing the tops of his knuckles.

The shock of it all had makes it easy to slip back into that role of the sweet, caring girl she needed him to believe her to be. And if she is being honest with herself, she couldn't deny the possessiveness she had felt at the idea that he might've been harmed. She'd claimed him as hers from the moment she began stalking him, the first of her Court, even if it did take treachery to obtain him.