Brennan is a shadow of the man she once knew, still lingering in the backdrop and yet he is changed. In many ways, he is weaker and others he is stronger, forged of steel. He peers down upon her, staring into those stormy grey eyes, almost losing himself, a furrow of her brows distracting him. Yes, she was cynical but not with him, not after he broke down those walls. "In most things, yes." That Irish lilt rang in the rich baritones of his voice, saying much more than what he didn't say. Yet he remembers a time when she trusted him, a time long, long ago. He nearly retracts but he cannot bring his body to move. At least he evaded the whole following her thing, for now. She let go of her icy makeshift weapon, now allowing it to be in his grasp. He had no need for it, he placed it on the ground, propped up against that grimy cement wall.

Serafina treats him with a coldness that he certainly deserved, she didn't need weapons, there were other ways she disarms him. Those words she uttered, absolutely throws him. "I came back as soon as I was able. If you have to ask for the reason why. You clearly don't know me as well as you think you do." Brennan eyes her cautiously, having a hard time to admit those words but he knew he had to. He knew if he was ever going to earn a place in her life he had to admit to her. It was difficult to say those words, knowing she could easily throw them right back in his face. Judging by the way she crosses her arms, shielding herself from him, he knows there was a very big chance that she would. He risks it anyways. He possessed those reckless tendencies why would this be any different. He had already lost all that there was. "I came back for you." He didn't need to think about those words, he knew them deep within himself, he had a lot of time to think when he was away. There was only one thing he was certain about and that was her.

He is caught off guard as she storms off yet inviting him with her. His eyebrow shot up but he doesn't question it, jumping at the opportunity she provides. Of course, she would demand answers of him, that liquid courage would certainly help. The dark haired witch said she had plenty of drinks that might quench his thirst, yet there was something in the way that she said it that made him wonder just what kind of potion she would slip into them. She was pissed at him, the heat nearly radiated off of her. But damn, she looked sexy when she was pissed off, teetering on the ledge she danced on. He could not help that roguish grin that found its way across his lips. "You can slip your little potions in there if it would make you happy." He tries to coax and goad her at the same time. If she wanted him to suffer, he would accept it willingly.

She was surprised by the way he shrugged off his jacket, noticing how her eyes watched something, uncaring of the rain water that would saturate him entirely. It was his mark he noticed, he hid his wrist away from her prying eyes. As he put his jacket on her he takes every advantage to watch the way her wet clothes cling to her slender physique. His wet hair formed in spiky clumps, water dripping off and streaming down his face and through the scruff on his face. He would steal glances of her in his beloved leather coat, if this was the last time he ever saw her, he would damn well remember it.

Stay close. Those words run a chord with him, one that he had yearned for, for so damn long. He craved her heat, her touch. But he knows he is not deserving even though his very nerve endings cry out for her. He was absorbed by her and yet he is still hyperaware of his surroundings, he hated being so exposed in the streets. He was safe here in this human world, there were no longer monsters lurking in all the dark corners and the rain was not acid that would scald his skin. Creeping a little bit closer to her, he yearns to touch her. He needed an anchor to stop him from getting lost at sea and it felt like at any minute he would be consumed.

She began reciting a dictionary definition of demons and it only solidified his reality, he was dangerous even the mere moments he spends with her he is endangering her. After all, he owed a demon a favour and that always came with a price too much to bear. Was he watching him now? That was unless he could kill him first, a feat which would seem no one has ever done. He swallowed, hard, shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant way as if to rid himself of this feeling. "Yes, those would be the ones. Do you know what happens when a debt is owed to one of these creatures?" He asked her his voice almost soft, his other hand rubbing at that mark that burns him even as they walk.

Did his answer of his absence lie with demons she asked. A grim look took over his features. "Partially." He responded truthfully. "But mainly it lies with your mentor." His words are poisonous with hatred. He hated the man that cursed him to another dimension, so much that he wanted to slice him into tiny pieces and then throw him away like the sewage he was. "I am going to kill him for what he has done." He spoke steadfast, his promise to the world. Yet his words are distant as though he no longer stood by her side, but a ghost stood. A worn broken sigh escapes him. There was so much he needed to tell her and yet there was so much he hadn't even made enough sense of. Not with his mind still in an inferno of chaos within another world, a demon brand on his flesh and yet that wasn't the most frightening thing. It was facing Serafina, with every footstep that took him to her home that brought him that much closer to the realisation of his nightmare. What if she didn't understand? What if she still blamed him? What if she moved on? These questions haunted him and he can hardly make sense of it, his nerves were thrumming like an electrical current and he is lost. "Sera... I don't know how to begin." She looked down at the ground, entirely vulnerable in that rare moment. It had suddenly felt a lifetime ago where he had been swept away like driftwood off to sea, yet he wasn't sure, even though the driftwood would likely wash up on some beach, he was certain he was not the same man she remembered.

Brennan O'Connell