Dorian’s expression softens into something resembling satisfaction, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as he studies Dahlia. He takes a step back, granting her space, though the air between them still seems charged, her invitation very much noted. "Very well," he says, his tone approving but distant, as if her agreement was precisely what he expected. "Speak with Pierce. Make sure our message is received loud and clear. I trust you to handle it." And he did. He always had.
He lets the words hang in the air, his gaze drifting past her to the expansive Eye of the Storm. Steam rises in elegant tendrils from the hot springs, twisting and weaving like something alive. His eyes return to Dahlia, a faint, almost mischievous smile touching his lips, but it’s tempered by the steel beneath. "You know," he says lightly, suggestively, "one of these days, when our work is less pressing, I think I’d quite like to try the waters here." His eyes hold hers, his smile deepening, almost wicked. "Perhaps you'd care to join me, when the time comes."
With that, Dorian turns, his linen shirt shifting slightly in the warm breeze, leaving Dahlia to her thoughts as he strides away, every step marked by that same quiet confidence. There is no need to look back—he knows the effect his words will have, and he is content to let that anticipation do its work.
~FIN
He lets the words hang in the air, his gaze drifting past her to the expansive Eye of the Storm. Steam rises in elegant tendrils from the hot springs, twisting and weaving like something alive. His eyes return to Dahlia, a faint, almost mischievous smile touching his lips, but it’s tempered by the steel beneath. "You know," he says lightly, suggestively, "one of these days, when our work is less pressing, I think I’d quite like to try the waters here." His eyes hold hers, his smile deepening, almost wicked. "Perhaps you'd care to join me, when the time comes."
With that, Dorian turns, his linen shirt shifting slightly in the warm breeze, leaving Dahlia to her thoughts as he strides away, every step marked by that same quiet confidence. There is no need to look back—he knows the effect his words will have, and he is content to let that anticipation do its work.
~FIN
