RP:I’ll Wait
Summary: Xiem starts to work on Lita’s deck on his day off with her help and it’s nearly done by the time he leaves!
Beachside Villa
A worn path edged by beach primrose leads up to the stained-teak porch of this spacious, seaside villa. The foundation is built upon thick stilts that lift this island architecture only a few feet above the sand, allowing that ocean breeze to flow under the house to keep it naturally cool, as well as providing safety from a high tide flood. The interior beyond is simple: wicker and wood furniture, a short bar and bottle rack built into a back wall. Rooms for rest remain behind closed doors, and only a few exotic trinkets line the shelves. Large, open windows are dressed with the vintage, velvet curtains selected long ago by it's original owner, framing that paradise view of tumbling waves and swaying bitter panicum.
Outside, a shell chime clatters softly in the wind.
The old hammock remains, swaying with a rhythm to the neighboring water.
Lita | The first time she finds a flower outside the shop, she thinks maybe someone has dropped it by accident. All the same, she props it up in a little vase on the work table. The next morning when there's another flower in the same place, she knows better than to think it hasn't been left on purpose. Three more days, she thinks to herself. How had she so easily become this person? Mooning over flowers and nervous first kisses? His words echo through her thoughts, "I see you, Lita." She'd spent years carefully compartmentalizing parts of herself for work. Being an informant and a spy had demanded it in those days and it had been an easy thing for her, to curate people's perception of her. Before she'd cared enough to let anyone in. But it had been so easy to open up to him when he'd asked about Hanan and Chio, hurt she hasn't talked about in so long now. She'd told Leo she would try to find people she could trust again, she just didn't know it would happen so soon or so easily.
By the third day she's tempted to find some excuse to take herself to Elimdor, if only so she could see him again. She avoids Cal like a plague, if only to not have to deal with him further for the time being. Patience is a difficult thing when she spends her spare time day dreaming about the feeling of his arm around her and his lips against hers. By the night of the fourth day, sleep is an impossible thing. So she makes the trek back through town from the beach house to Soulskin. The shops have all been closed up, the streets all but quiet and the city is, for a moment, still. The usual noise from the docks drift up from the distance, a few voices and the sounds of loading cargo but this is the soundtrack of the city. The flowers on the worktable are already starting to wilt but she's left them in their vase anyway and she checks on them briefly before making her way upstairs. The sketchbook and some of the art supplies he'd gifted her are on the room's small desk and she lights a candle and opens the window to let the night air in as she settles in to pass some time.
Xiembantointh wakes up early even though he couldn't sleep much these past few weeks, but he did have two hundred years of slumber - so he's good, right? He throws on a simple white cotton tee shirt and his work pants to go gather what he needs from the supplies at the work site before having to shift into his dragon form in order to carry the load from the mansion to the villa, but making sure he keeps a distance from the coast, over the water as to not raise alarm. Luckily there aren't that many homes on the coast and her villa is secluded enough to be able to get close. If she happens to be outside as the sun is rising, she will see a great white dragon with pristine scales glistening like a blanket of snow in Frostmaw. Some of the scales give off a shimmery purple or blue hue in the right light and the astounding beauty of the dragon is remarkable, but not many have ever gotten close enough to a white dragon to marvel at its rare form because of their evil nature. Xiem eases the large bundle of building material onto the sand near the deck of the villa and the beating from his massive wings sends some of the sand into a flurry. So if she isn't outside by now then the commotion will surely lure the woman out. The only thing she might be able to trust that it is truly Xiem is the eyes, the same vibrant azure color in his human form. Then he crawls down from the pile of supplies that acts as a wall while he transforms back to being a human. He comes around the pile while slipping his shirt back on and instantly smiles when he sets eyes on Lita before scooping her up into a tight hug while saying, "morning gorgeous." After setting her down, he offers a sweet little peck to her forehead and then he explains, "since I am doing this on my own. I am going to have to tackle demolitioning the deck in my dragon form, but that won't take long," and he'll be back in his shirtless form soon enough.
Lita | Knowing a thing and seeing the truth of it with your own eyes are sometimes two very different things. An example, seeing Xiem in his dragon form. Lita is no stranger to dragons, though most of her interactions with them have as of yet been limited to hunts. She probably shouldn't share that too eagerly though. And she's never seen a white one. She might have done a little research after meeting him. While that had originally been to brush up on precautions she could take against his blood to complete his tattoo, she'd learned he was very different from what most seemed to write of his demeanor in scholarly tomes. What the books had failed to mention entirely was that seeing a white dragon in flight with your own eyes was something of a breathtaking scene. A reprehensible oversight. This is how she ends up on the back deck, leaning against the railing to watch him from over the water and land not far on the sand with those supplies. She makes her way barefoot across the sand to greet him with a hug. And then he's mentioning demolition. Right, of course. Probably should have realized that one. "Okay. Let me take the hammock down and clear some stuff, okay?" She hugs him again, squeezing him gently, excited to see him again. And then she makes her way back up to the old deck. The hammock isn't difficult, it's a thing she's done many times over. The netting is folded as best it can be and then carted into the kitchen through the back door. There's a small bistro table scattered with art paraphernalia and she scoops everything into a bag to take inside before moving the table after. Surveying the now empty deck one last time, she glances back at Xiem again. "Is there anything I can help with?" She wants to be helpful or at least offer but she doesn't want to be in his way.
Xiembantointh returns her hug and softly pushes some hair away from her face as the wind has blown it about. He then cups her cheek while looking down at her in the moment just to take her smile in. It is obvious he missed her, but he didn't realize he did so much. "Okay, I'll help," he walks alongside her and on up to the deck to unfasten the hammock from the posts since he's taller before helping her roll it up to prevent any tangles in the netting. He also helps her carefully stash her artwork away while getting a glance at this or that on the pages because he admires her work whenever he gets a chance. He stands next to her and gets one good last look at her old deck with a grin on his face. "Of course," he takes his shirt off to drape it along the back of a kitchen table chair, her artwork beautifully displayed on his chest and then he's waving her to follow before walking back out the back door. Maybe she noticed that his necklace with his wife's ring on it is still there, but now his own ring that has been missing from his finger has joined it. Once they are back outside, he pulls down a big knapsack from the supply pile that holds many of his tools and pulls out a folded up canvas tarp, "help me lay this out over there, please." He points to the other side of her deck and starts unfolding it until it is as large as the one he used to haul the materials in. He secures the corners quickly with heavy stones so it doesn't billow in the wind, "this is where all the old debris will go so I can take it or I can cut down some of the old wood parts for firewood which will be great for your fire pit." Then he goes back to the bag to pull free a big sledge hammer, "then you can go crazy and help with the demolition, but keep this thing on." He gets a repurposed helmet used in a suit of armor that has cloth padding within for protection. "I'll keep an eye on you so nothing lands on you, but just in case." He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to her, but ripping old things apart is one of the funnest parts of the job! "You ready, Lita?" Once she affirms she is ready, he disappears behind the pile of materials to stow his pants away and transform once again. The sand absorbs most of the shock from every footstep of the dragon and he positions himself along one side of the deck before glancing Lita's way to see how well she is getting on. Then he uses one of his razor sharp claws to separate the roof of the deck safely from the roof of her home before simply lifting it away and tossing it to the garbage pile. It couldn't have looked any easier!
Lita is grateful for his help with clearing the deck, though it feels a bit awkward at first. She's not used to not doing things herself. Though that might be more because she doesn't trust most people. She might have stopped in her tracks for a minute to stare when he took his shirt off. She'll blame it on admiring the tattoo. And then some. All the then some. She notices the ring he's wearing on his necklace, the addition of his own. Which would explain why it hadn't been on his finger the other night. Clearly, the tattoo had done wonders for him in finding that sense of closure, and she's so glad for that for him. She realizes she's staring a little when he waves for her to follow him back outside. Right. Focus. "Done!" She says, helping him lay out the tarp and secure the corners of it. "Oh, that's a great idea. Recycling and all." She takes the sledge hammer from him, setting it to rest on the sand for a moment, the handle of it against her knee. She doesn't look like she'd be very strong but that was part of the deception of vampirism. When he offers her that helmet, she lofts a brow at him though. "Xiem," she says playfully, "we don't mess with the hair." She tugs raven locks into a messy ponytail and lifts the sledgehammer again to her shoulder as he moves behind the supplies to transform back to his dragon form. She's tempted to reach out and try to touch some of those snow white scales but she doesn't know the protocol for such a thing, so she moves back towards the deck instead. She forgets sometimes that people can't always tell she's a vampire. Not that she tries to hide it, she just doesn't advertise it openly. Though it might be evident, as she lifts the hammer to take a swing at one the bamboo pylons holding up the deck proper, that she's not quite human. The hammer smashes through the structure with ease, the wood bursting into shards and the deck wobbles a bit. She glances up to watch the roof moving overhead, a satisfied grin on her face. There's something primal in the destruction of it. Who doesn't enjoy smashing things to bits every now and then? She lifts the hammer again to take a swing at another one of the pylon structures. Maybe she could moonlight in construction work.
Xiembantointh is surprised at her strength, but who can tell if a dragon is surprised? The tilt of his head? There is a part of him that is relieved of her surprising strength because maybe that means she isn’t human after all. It’s not that he has anything against humans, he adores them and finds comfort in the way they live, but they live so short and a hundred years goes by in the blink of an eye for dragons. Once they clear away all the old parts of the structure and he still makes sure she isn’t in any harm's way, he starts to dig the stand away where the new posts will go while she gathers any remaining rubble to be put on the tarp they laid out. Maybe his tail teasingly bumps her when she has her back turned to him and the dragon looks over his wing, showing his teeth in a makeshift smirk. He lifts thick posts and places them in the holes one by one, but curiously he holds the post up straight and he blows ice at the base which will never melt and acts like concrete. Then he fills the rest of the hole with the sand he pulled from it and on to the framework he goes. Then he lifts a bundle of decently sized rocks that will be stacked along the posts in a pyramid formation so nothing can damage the integrity of the posts and it will be standing for years to come and he shows Lita how if she is still with him outside. It wasn’t long at all as the sun has not even met the middle of the skies yet, so he’s making great time and now is the time he can shift back into his human form and he comes from around the pile of materials while wiping sweat from his brow. “How are you doing?” He asks with a charming grin while pulling down wooden slats that will act as the floor to the deck and all of his muscles seem to tense or stretch with every movement as the sun catches the beaded sweat along his skin. Together they balance the slats where they need to be secured and then he carefully walks along them to hammer the nails in. He chose a nice light grain wood so I can be stained whatever color she wishes later. By now he has worked up quite a sweat and the sun has reached the peak of the day. The railing still needs to be added and then he will finish the roof, but he looks over to Lita while letting out a big sigh, “lunch time?”
Lita has a stray thought of just demolishing the entire beach house to rubble and starting over. Or somewhere else entirely. But that wouldn't be very fair to what Leo had built. So the deck would have to suffice. But maybe now it will feel a little more like hers, too. She's gathering the last of the wood splinters from the sand when his tail bumps her and she half-steps to catch her footing, turning to catch that (what she assumes is a) grin. She drops the wood bits on the tarp and scoops a handful of sand to toss at his tail. That's probably effective. Mostly she tries to keep out of his way but when he blows ice around the first post, she's intrigued. She forgets that there might be some protocol or politeness about approaching dragons and when he steadies the next post, she ducks under his wing to get closer, lifting a hand up against the scales of his chest as she leans forward a bit to watch. When the ice forms, she glances up at him for a moment and then back at the ice again, and reaches out to brush it with her fingertips. It is strangely cool to the touch but isn't melting. A look of uncertainty passes her features for a moment. She's not such a fan of magic. But she doesn't say anything and he buries it in sand. She moves to help him with the next ones, holding the posts upright so he can affix them properly. She helps him with the rocks after and just like their time together prior, the silence that settles is an easy thing. "You do this all day?" She asks, feigning exhaustion as she lifts an arm to wipe the back of her wrist across her brow. Stray wisps of hair cling to her temples and neck. She's much more used to working in the shop these days, reclined and comfy. When he grins at her, her smile softens. She helps with balancing the slats of the floor but let's be honest, she's mostly just shamelessly enjoying the view of him. She's sitting on one of the slats, her legs stretched out with her toes balanced on the next one. She could see how this work would suit him. "If you insist." She says when he asks about lunch. She takes his hand when he offers it and he pulls her to her feet before following her inside. At least the house is a little cooler. She moves about the kitchen, pouring him a glass of water. "Make yourself comfortable." She says as she goes about laying out an assortment of sandwich items for him to choose from. Bread, sliced meats, cheeses and some fruit. It wasn't fancy but at least she'd managed food. Usually the kitchen was pretty bare. "Oh, I almost forgot!" She nabs a bottle of stout and steadies the bottle against the edge of the counter to pop the top, catching it mid-air as it goes flying. "Can I ask what is probably a ridiculous question?" She says as she hands him the bottle. "The ice... is that a specific dragon trait or some other kind of magic?"
Xiembantointh can sense her nearby and makes sure to keep her protected. Her help with the rest of the posts is appreciated though and he simply continues his work. When she asks if he does this all day, he lets out a hearty chuckle with a pat on her back, “yup.” Even though he created the human body he chooses to spend most of his time in, it probably makes sense his abdomen area looks so appealing to her. Taking her hand and being led around by her is definitely something he could get used to as his gaze lingers on how her form moves from behind. Once they were inside, he slips his shirt on and accepts the water before sowing it in a few gulps. Then he starts meandering around, taking in small details of her life. How she likes to keep her home and her taste in decoration. When he finds his way back to the kitchen to find the wonderful spread laid out for him, he grins wide while brushing past her to wash his hands. “Looks great, Lita. Thank you,” he then has a look of impressed surprise on his face when she pulls the trick of popping the top of his stout. When he accepts the bottle from her, he makes sure their fingers touch for a moment before taking it. While piling two sandwiches high with all the best fixings, he glances up to her as the question comes up. “Not rediculous,” he assures her while popping a grape in his mouth, “I was hatched in the icy tundras of Frostmaw. Some dragons spit fire or poison, I spit ice. So, no, I don’t think it’s magic,” he simply says before taking a pull from his bottle. “I use it sometimes while building to hold things in place or together. Why do you ask?” He genuinely inquires out of curiosity before taking a bite out of his sandwich. She seemed occupied by the ice when he started erecting the posts, maybe she is worried they won’t hold or melt.
There's not much of her represented in the decor of the beach house. The wooden furniture was all still original, the open floorplan providing a spacious living area with a stocked bar that led into the kitchen with its center island and granite countertops. She had redone the kitchen some years ago and replaced all the curtains, preferring a more delicate linen than the velvet. There's a small bookshelf in the living room, messy with various books. The books bear the top shelves are mostly of history and other cultures, most in common but some in elven. Near the bottom shelves and likely more current reads are texts of art study and poetry. There are a few sketchbooks tucked away in there probably too, they're usually not far from reach. The only keepsake that seems to be prevalent and well looked after is a small square wooden box, ornately carved and decorated in a knotwork pattern. It's not perfect, so likely hadn't been commissioned from a professional but is far more personal. The two bedrooms on either side of the house remain hidden behind closed doors but otherwise he's free to explore. Watching him walk around makes her a bit nervous, wondering what he might think of her based on the simplicity of this place. But she'd already told him that she'd been gone for some time, so maybe that would afford some understanding. When he makes his way back to the kitchen, she leans up to press a kiss against his cheek before moving to let him wash up. She watches him go about fixing sandwiches as he explains the ice ability. Sounded like some thin line between magic and ability, though how much of a dragon could be considered magic? "I'm not a big fan of magic." That was mostly the truth. A polite way to describe fear that often lends itself to terror. Stories for another day. "And curiosity, I guess." She answers, still mulling over her thoughts. "In truth, I don't know much about dragons. Myth had been a blue dragon but didn't like his dragon form much. I only met him in it once." Either after or prior to his friend being killed, she couldn't remember. She'd been human then, even. She reaches for a couple of raspberries and slips one between her lips before continuing. "I did a bit of research on white dragons, after we met." She admits. "But you are very different from the way history has written you. Not that that's a bad thing, just surprising, I guess." She's rambling a bit. But he's eating, so that's okay.
Xiembantointh doesn't make any assumptions on the state of the interior design, he was just curious. Of course when she planted a kiss, he leaned down some to make it easier for her and then grins down at her like she is one of the most precious things in this world. He eats quickly, but quietly as he listens to Lita intently. Once his sandwiches are gone, he can snack on the fruit in the pauses of conversation and he takes note that she only eats a couple raspberries without feeling the need for some water after such hard work this morning. "That is understandable. I don't feel like it is magic because it is more akin to a function like breathing to me and I strictly use it for building purposes. That way no one can possibly be hurt by it, not again," it seems there is a story there and he is willing to tell on a day they can relax. "You did?" His smirk is sly as he teases her, "checking up on me now?" He likes when she rambles, so he just relaxes in his chair while drinking from his bottle, "history is correct. White dragons are fearsome creatures who belong to no hoard, they live alone in solitude and that is how they prefer it. They are heartless and could care less for any living thing. I don't remember much about the dragon who hatched me, but when I showed signs of not being naturally evil, they left," he shrugs. "Probably for the better. I forged my own path and unfortunately, being a white dragon in any military, they expect you to be a killing machine without a consensus," he allows a silent moment to rest between them because it has been a long time since he has talked about his life in the military back when there were still territory wars. "Now that we have spoken at length to what I am, I hope you don't think I am rude and if you don't want to share, I understand. What are you?" She sure as heck doesn't have the strength as a human.
Lita glances away when he mentions not wanting anyone to be hurt by his abilities again. She understands there's a story there but she doesn't press it. His life in the military and before sounds like a hard and lonely thing. At least until he'd met Nildran, she remembers. A solitary life had always been a choice for her, at least prior to finding herself in Rynvale. She nibbles at a few more raspberries until he's asking about what she is and she grins up at him. "That's very rude," she teases. "Isn't that one of those questions you're not supposed to ask a lady?" She's kidding, and she tosses a raspberry at him playfully. "I'm a vampire. Hanan was too. My only request before we married was that she'd turn me. I figured if she was gonna make me do the whole wedding thing, there was no way I was gonna let her watch me grow old and die someday." She shrugs a little. "It was an easy decision, really. Though not everyone thought so. The transition itself was not an easy thing. Nearly killed me. And," she reaches for his hand and lifts his palm over her chest where her heart is. It is very faint and very slow, but her heart does beat. Likely the reason why he's still able to cause that faint blush in her cheeks from time to time. Hanan's was the same, though Lita hadn't the time to ask more about it or Hanan's sire. For a moment she is very aware of how near he is. "I don't think I'm a very good foreman." She smiles slowly, changing the subject to something a bit less heavy. "All the employees are slacking off today."
Xiembantointh allows his grin to become a tinge mischievous and lets the raspberry hit him which sends it rolling down his shirt into his hand as he jokes in return, “for a gentleman maybe.” Then he shoots a flirty wink her way and tosses the raspberry in his mouth. Of course, it isn’t in his nature to be rude, but he likes to joke because he doesn’t really see himself as this noble and chivalrous fella. He leans on the table towards her as she recounts her journey and decision to become a vampire. Internally he is relieved, but his worries stay the same because vampires have many powerful abilities… on the other hand they have a lot of weaknesses as well. Not to mention, it seems their race has the most enemies - including dragons. He never lets someone race paint the picture of them because he doesn’t have an evil bone in his body, but the nature of white dragons says otherwise. Remembering what dragons blood does to vampires, he silently makes a mental note to never get a tattoo from her again no matter how beautiful her art is because he would never want to put her in the way of harm. Xiem is easily compliant to how Lita wants to move his hand and he leans in a little further to reach comfortably with the corner of the table between them. He can feel the hint of her heart breathing lethargically and his grin softens when azure eyes lock to her dark ones, “I think it is quite romantic of you to do such a thing for love. I am glad it didn’t take your life,” his warm timbre crackles like a relaxing campfire as it quiets in their closeness. His gaze slips down to her lips and then down to her hand holding his over her heart as he is also realizing how close this tense moment has become which causes his cheeks to turn a shade of pink, but he doesn’t dare move away as he raises his hand off her chest to hold that hand. “Maybe not, but you’re definitely the hottest foreman,” then he places a slow supple kiss on her lips and lingers for a moment before pulling away with another smirk. “I’ll allow it,” he mentions with a chuckle while standing up. “Well, we’re nearly done. If you’d like, you can relax the rest of the day. All that’s left is the railing around the deck and the roof for today.”
Lita gets a bit teary-eyed when he describes her choice to become a vampire as romantic. Some people hadn't seen it that way. And for years after losing Hanan it was an endless struggle to see herself as anything other than a monster. There were plenty of things in her past to regret or wish she might have done differently but she was trying at least. The way he blushes softly makes her smile broaden and it spreads into a little laugh as he calls her the hottest foreman. He tastes like raspberries when he kisses her and as much as she wants to lean into him and kiss him again, she's not sure she'd stop long enough for him to actually continue working on the deck. So fine, she'll behave. "I like helping." She says as she stands, shuffling the mess of his dishes towards the kitchen. For a moment she pauses at the counter. She's not used to seeing dishes in the kitchen and it strikes her as such an oddly normal thing. "Or at least pretending to help." She says, turning to face him again. Leaning her hip against the counter, she reaches her hand out to snag his hip and tug him closer, leaning up on her tip-toes so she can kiss him again. Okay, she wasn't perfect. "Because I'm pretty sure you don't need my help at all." She says against his lips with a smile. "But I have to say I do enjoy watching you work." And not just because he did so shirtless. Though it was an added bonus. She'd always felt it strange when people watched her sketching but she sort of understood now. Watching him create this vision of a deck, seemingly out of thin air with a pile of sticks, was a beautiful thing. She kisses the corner of his mouth and slips an arm around his waist before tugging him back outside to help him finish the day's project.
Xiembantointh has seen monsters and has known true monsters, Lita is far from it. Hopefully Xiem will be able to shed some light on her dilemma over the next six months. Her laugh is special and sweet, so he hopes to hear it more often. He helps her with putting the rest of the food away and rinsing off the dishes to be placed in the sink as he chuckles, "and I like you helping, but don't think I am going to pay you. I have a strict no dating coworkers or clients rule," but then she seems in a trance while looking at the pile of the dishes in the sink that he rinsed. "I promise I will wash those before I leave tonight," then he gives her a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder in case she needs comfort at that moment. He had just reached his hand to grasp the back part of the collar to his shirt and pulled it free of his torso in one swift movement when he is pulled like a magnet to Lita. Her fingers hooked through the belt loops of his pants, which are currently holding up his tool belt, to pull him into her is doing things to him. Carelessly he lets his shirt fall to the floor as his hands automatically find their place on either side of her head when their lips connect again and his thumbs gently caress her temples when his other fingers get lost in her raven locks. He bends into her and a short hum escapes him because he might just want to do this for the rest of the day, but then nothing would get done! A slow and low chuckle comes from him while she says these flattering things against his lips while he has to try and refocus his thoughts for a witty reply. "I don't, no, but it is doing wonders for my ego," he jests because he doesn't have a big ego. He returns the corner mouth kiss before slipping an arm around her shoulders in an embrace, but then she is tugging him back to work and he follows to check her out again. He shows her how the rustic looking railing pieces fit together so he can install it when he is done with the roof and then he props a ladder on the side of her house to start hammering in the shingles to the newer part of the roof that goes over the deck. Every once in a while, he will pop his head over the edge of the roof and wolf whistle at Lita before getting back to work and soon enough the sun was setting as he already finished the shingles on the roof, then the railings. Once it is all in place, he takes a few steps back to inspect the work they did and smiles over to Lita, "it just needs a couple coats of wood finish and I can do that while building the fire ring next week."
Lita | Dating? Were they dating? Or does he mean he wants to be dating? She's mulling over this ridiculously as she fits the railing pieces together as he'd shown her, so he can fasten them after. She's grateful for a bit of time to stare out over the ocean from the edge of the new deck- as if that's not exciting enough on it's own! There have been a couple of people she's cared about since Hanan, sure. She's not a prude. But she went into it without expectation of a future or labels or what might come after. There was only what was. But Xiem has a family and a life and a business and a world that if invited into it further, she could potentially change, for better or worse. And it's a little terrifying. All because of six little letters? All because he kept kissing her like that. She doesn't even realize she's gripping the new railing so hard until he lets out one of those whistles and she turns over her shoulder to glance up at him on the ladder, smiling softly as she tucks stray curls behind her ear. Maybe it didn't matter yet. She ducks back into the house to grab him another bottle of stout and brings it back outside for him as he's finishing the railings. Coming up behind him, she skates the palm of her hand across the small of his back, up and around his ribs as she leans in to kiss the back of his shoulder. The salt of his skin and the warmth of the sun lingers against her lips. "Xiem, I'm not used to this." She says softly as he turns to face her and she hands him the drink. "Dating, in any traditional sense of the word. I don't want to fall short of whatever your expectations might be." She's no idea what his romantic history after having lost Nildran might have been. "But I'll try." She chews at the inside of her lower lip, glancing down and away from him for a moment. "I like you. I like talking to you and hearing about your world and getting to be a part of it, even in some small way." She's not used to people sticking around. If she gets her hopes up now it will only hurt more later. Better to temper expectations and enjoy the moments of their time together. "Don't look at me like that." She says with an easy smile, leaning into him a little. "It makes me want to kiss you."
Xiembantointh did not think one bit on the word he used, but it had been quite a long time since he had to carefully choose his words. He is thankful for the beer and he shivers ever so slightly at the way her hand moves along his back and ribs. "Thanks," his joyous grin returns and he raises his bottle before drinking deeply from it which ends in a satisfied sigh. "Used to what?" He inquires, still oblivious to the misstep he took hours before and how she's been stewing about it. "Oh," he exclaims, but then she continues while he simply grins down at her. "We don't have to call this anything you don't want to, Lita," he says cooly and in that same self assured way. "I like you as well, but I don't kiss my friends on the lips like I kiss you. I don't look at them the way I look at you and I definitely don't think about them like I think of you." It may be bold, but the emphasis on the last part has more than one meaning and it is obvious by the expression on his face. "I can't get you off my mind, Lita and I am not afraid to admit it because I've been in this situation with women before. Unfortunately, I could not shake this feeling of guilt because my heart still belonged to Nildran and my grieving wasn't over, but with you… I don't know. You make everything easy and I have not a worry in the world when I am around you. I feel a comfort with you that I cannot even explain. I had no expectations, Lita. I wanted for nothing… Then you just took me by surprise. Now, I want you and I expect you to just be the wonderful you," he takes a step toward her and gently takes her chin between his finger and thumb so she looks up at him. "I'm not even sorry if all of that is too fast for you or too much, but I'll wait."
Lita can't help the broad smile that follows hearing him say he doesn't kiss his friends on the lips. Well, that might make for an awkward work site. But then that last bit about the way he thinks of her has an edge to it that makes her blush. She feels a little like her head is spinning and she shakes her head when he draws her face up to look at him. "It's not too fast," she clarifies. "I'm just... it's just different. It's not even a bad thing, I just..." she doesn't even know the right words to explain it. That she was scared of letting him see her, all those darker parts she'd kept buried for so long? That she was scared of losing him? Worried of how he might look at her after. That was the part that always broke her. The look in people's eyes that came after. And she knows if they keep seeing each other like this, it's only a matter of time. She'll tell him. She'll show him everything. And worse still perhaps is that she doesn't want to wait. She inhales a deep breath and shifts a little to stand between him and the deck railing. With a hand on his shoulder, she hops up on the railing and tugs him closer, between her knees, her arms draping easily around his shoulders. The warmth of him this near is intoxicating. Her fingers drift through his hair, her fingertips across the back of his neck, if only to touch some part of him. One hand lifts to his cheek, her eyes falling over his lips as her thumb caresses his jaw before she lifts her gaze to his eyes again and she draws him closer still so she can kiss him gently. "Tell me more about this way you think of me." A smile teases across her lips with the words.
Xiembantointh will be waiting patiently for the day she opens up to him and it will be something they tackle together when she feels secure enough in whatever this is to face it. "You'll tell me one day and I will still be waiting… I'll still be here," then she is pulling him into her again, but she seems much more sturdy on the new railing. Being placed there feels eons more intimate than it should, but he keeps his focus on her tempting lips while his arms wrap around her to hold the vampire secure on the railing after setting his drink aside. Every movement of her own is light lightning down his spine and his head tilts into her hand slightly, but then gooseflesh raises along his skin when her fingertips caress across the back of his neck. His eyes roll briefly before locking on her lips again just before they share a tender kiss. Xiem's lips may be a bit on the thin side, but they melt onto her velvety lips like butter in a hot pan. A mischievous little smirk returns at her tease and he simply replies, "why ruin the fun? Hopefully I'll just get to show you one day," his brain felt like the neurons were firing off on all cylinders whenever she boldly tested him like this. She is so alluring and intoxicating that he is certain this must be some fever dream from the Rynvale sun baking the poor ice dragon gray matter of his. The fireflies start to warn of the late hour as they hover around the wildflowers and a pit forms in his stomach because it is now time to say goodbye. One of his hands smooths up her back from the small of it till he is between her shoulder blades and then his fingertips gently dig in when he claims her lips once more while sharply inhaling her intoxicating scent through his nose. The other hand is planted on her hip as his fingertips on that hand also dig in with unbridled desire just before he forces himself to break the kiss with a short grunt, "it is getting late." The words sound rougher, but it is just because that is going to be one long walk back to the Inn and then he clears his throat. "I'll be back in six days," he concludes even though he doesn't have the strength to pull away from her just yet.
This part is easy for her, the electricity of it, the enticing allure of him. Even if the way he looks at her leaves her a bit breathless and the way he talks about her makes her realize she has some things to rethink, maybe. She grins at the way he matches her coyness though, even as she pouts up at him briefly. His hand on the bare skin of her back makes her tremble slightly and he'll feel the scars there, the uneven pattern they carve across the backs of her shoulders. They might have healed properly if they hadn't been born of magic but, those are stories for another day as well. She doesn't shy away from him though she once likely would have. "Six days." She echoes the words with an air of sadness and excitement rolled together, realizing this was goodbye for now. "Then for now, it will be my turn to wait for you." She reminds herself that he likely has to go to the other job site tomorrow, since he was helping her on his days off. She'd have to do something nice for him. Maybe a special meal or a gift? She's a few days to think it over at least. She slips from the railing back to the deck and reaches for his hand to lead him back through the house and to the front porch. "Maybe next time I see you we can just enjoy your day off. You need to rest too, y'know. No sense in getting all overworked." At least not while on the job.