EZRA
You don't see the blemish, the teeth marks or bruises on her wrist and neck. Maybe you would have, if you were still home, but you've got other shit to deal with these days - like, for instance, talking trickster squirrels. Slacking, you're slacking, but you're doing your best, and considering your world has been flipped upside down and you've wound up in the sad mud puddle reflection of it, it honestly isn't so bad.Or so you tell yourself, because fuck it, without your Lord here the only person you have to make you feel better is, well, you.
"I'm accustomed to mazes at midnight," you reply, a suggestive tone in your tenor. Except you're not flirting with her - or you are, but not in an aggressive way, more in a dance. It is the tone you would take with the courtesans, the wives, an understanding playfulness that could be just as useful for gaining information as any roll with their husbands. I get what it is to be a beautiful thing.
Oh, but she think's your charming, and you preen a little beneath the praise, happy to be acknowledged once again. "As are you, my lady," you reply gallantly, offering another bow, a cheeky grin on your gorgeous face. "I can think of nobody fairer to spend my day with-" and you offer her an arm, the role of gallant knight errant taken, some sort of kinship felt for this woman who you don't know even a little, but fuck it, it's a leap of faith. "My name is Ezra. And you, darling?"
I like it when you take control
Even if you know that you don't
Even if you know that you don't
