Noting the blush that crept up into Will's face she can't help but turn away from him abruptly, she had no doubt in her mind about what the British man was thinking. She's just about to burst with embarrassment when he offers his words. Releasing a breath, she can't help but let an uneasy laugh escape her lips, "Sorry," she mumbles under her breath without looking at him. The assassin was going to die from embarrassment she was sure. When he changes the subject she can't help but let her shoulders sag in relief that he doesn't push the subject further. As he makes the gesture, Vhal raises a brow, tilts her head back and roars with laughter.

"It's supposed to be offensive, think of the dirtiest, foulest thing you could say to another, who you really dislike, and that's what that means. In my case, it was the rock wall," she chuckles out her response, her eyes bright with amusement, "Don't go around flashing that gesture to just anyone unless you're hoping to pick a fight," she warns lightly, her face flush with her excitement. When he leans his head on her shoulder she tenses again at his close contact, his head feels warm on her shoulder and she itches to rest her own head on his. Swallowing the urge to push him to the ground and begin kissing him furiously, she clears her throat, "I'm fine," she chokes out.

When he explains his terms she tilts her head and looks at him, "I would never leave you, Will," she whispers firmly, her eyes locking with his to urge him to understand. And it was true, when it happened, Vhalla wasn't sure, but she knew it in her bones to be true. When she stands, she lets her eyes trace the way his arm moves to brush the strands of his hair back again, and she can't help but let her eyes twinkle in amusement at his clearly messy hair. She much preferred the sleepy Will, she found him quite adorable and attractive. As she's distracted by his glorious hair, she doesn't see his hand moving to reach out to her stomach until his fingers and lightly brushing along her muscled abdomen. Sucking in a breath, her eyes flash towards his slender fingers and she freezes beneath his touch. His touch burns heat flooding her core and rising to her face.

She's greatly relieved and disappointed when he removes his hands.

When he compliments her, Vhalla simply stares at him not answering. She wasn't beautiful, she was simply a tool to be used. Moving to his backside she begins to poke and prod his skin, the wounds looking much better than yesterday but they would need to be re-bandaged, given how much blood had soaked through. "You foolish man," she says exasperated yet she secretly is pleased that he wanted to see her. After placing that kiss on the base of his neck, she can feel him jump beneath her, offering a warm smile in return. Hauling him to his feet she merely grunts at his response as she drags him back up the stairs and into the kitchen.

After she deposits him on the barstool, she notes the bandage being soaked through again, furrowing her brows, she steps away to the other of the kitchen to cross her arms, asking him what he would like to eat. "Sorry, I don't have tea," she shrugs apologetically, "Eggs I can do, I make a mean omelet, even Hannah would be impressed," she grins broadly pushing off the counter and uncrossing her arms. More compliments roll off her tongue and she can't help but blush furiously at him, the term indeed sounding odd on his British tongue but she can't help but feel so affected by the man.

"First, we are going to get you into some new bandages," she says sternly before walking away, ignoring the compliment offered, to retrieve her supplies. Returning quickly, she swiftly motions for him to lean across the bar as she begins to remove the bandages, thankful that the blood was fresh so the linens wouldn't be stuck to his wound. Cleaning, she applies a salve to take down the swelling and remove the infection before rewrapping him in clean bandages. Satisfied with her work, she takes the dirty linen and deposits it in the trash before washing her hands thoroughly.

Moving towards the large fridge, she rummages through it, humming softly to herself as she retrieves the eggs as well as the bacon last minute before depositing the product on the counter. "I have something to show you after breakfast," she says suddenly thinking about the library down the hall and remembering their previous conversation over dinner. "But after breakfast," she states not sure if he was going to demand she showed him now. Smiling at him shyly she turns and begins whisking the eggs and frying them up. When she finishes, she finds plates and rolls the French Omelets onto the plate adding a generous amount of bacon and buttered toast.

Prowling towards him, she drops the food off for him, placing a napkin and a fork within his reach, "I don't have much besides coffee and milk to offer you," she smiles apologetically as she sets down her own food across from him, keeping the bar between them as she stands and begins devouring her own food, "Sorry, it's not family style this time, how you loved feeding me," she grins mischievously at him, leaning across the bar staring at him.