R O N I N
The warmth built between them deliciously, and for once there was no low kindling of heat that suggested something more; not right now, anyway. Ronin was enthralled by Vanya, losing himself in her nutmeg eyes, in soft, tawny skin, in silken tresses and curves that begged to be touched. His quiet reverie was broken by a prod at his chest, Ronin arching an eyebrow and grinning to her. "I was taught well enough, Vanya," he quipped back - she would know that he was quite well practiced in the act, too. His smile softened. "I suppose I should say the timing, shouldn't I?"
He let his fingertips play over her lower back, taking a second to breathe her in as he leant his forehead back against hers. The ex-captain was run ragged, truthfully. Getting here, searching for any sign of a shore or a border, and finally picking this house (cold and miserable though it may be), and this expected surprise on top of all of it... damn.
Vanya sat back from him and he met her eyes easily, reaching out to let a hand play through her dark curls. "Yes, I know," he said. "I will help you look, until we find every last one of them. We'll figure it out together," he told her, nothing but quiet certainty in his voice, and as she folded into his arms he held her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair and kicking another few bits of kindling into the fire to keep feeding it.
"Tomorrow," he agreed, closing his eyes briefly and letting out possibly his first genuine laugh in a long time, in or outside of Northaven. "No, it certainly is not," he said curtly of their meagre surroundings, the former baron purposely putting more emphasis on his accent. "Luckily, my lady, I am a soldier as well as a blueblood, and I think I might cope for tonight. Tomorrow, though, I'd like my needless luxury back."
