The white sheep of the family
"Good." Loren's eyes swept over Weaver's body quickly, before flicking back up to meet her gaze. "Because there's a lot I'd like to compliment you for." There was an easy grin on his lips, and he winked at her.
As her fingers tangled in his hair, he raised his eyebrows. "I know, I know, I need a haircut." Still, he found his own fingers reaching out. Finding the end of her braid, he played with it idly. "I'm glad you think so. And I agree." He let out a huff of laughter, releasing her hair soon after she let go of his. "My gain too."
Pouting slightly, albeit in an amusing and overly dramatic way, he nodded. "So much work. You'll have to make it worth my while." Then he smirked. "Besides, if I have to deal with difficult patients, you have to deal with difficult tasters." He narrowed his eyes playfully at her.
As she continued speaking, moving past suggestive straight into scandalous (not that he minded obviously), he swallowed again. Leaning forward to meet her, he kissed her forehead gently. "There? Her nose. "There?" Her cheek. "There?" Finally, her lips, though it was as feather light and chaste as before. This time, when he pulled back, he said nothing, just stared directly into her eyes. They were still close, his lips hovering just over hers.
"Somehow I suspect you can as well." He sighed, the sound long-suffering, though the way his eyes crinkled in amusement showed he was just joking. "But I'm not going to make it easy for you." Waggled a finger, he grinned.
Taking another sip of the cider, he shrugged. "Let's just say it's a good thing I'm useful to have around, because I sure ain't pretty or charming." Obviously he was being self-deprecating, though there was a kernel of truth to the words.
As her fingers tangled in his hair, he raised his eyebrows. "I know, I know, I need a haircut." Still, he found his own fingers reaching out. Finding the end of her braid, he played with it idly. "I'm glad you think so. And I agree." He let out a huff of laughter, releasing her hair soon after she let go of his. "My gain too."
Pouting slightly, albeit in an amusing and overly dramatic way, he nodded. "So much work. You'll have to make it worth my while." Then he smirked. "Besides, if I have to deal with difficult patients, you have to deal with difficult tasters." He narrowed his eyes playfully at her.
As she continued speaking, moving past suggestive straight into scandalous (not that he minded obviously), he swallowed again. Leaning forward to meet her, he kissed her forehead gently. "There? Her nose. "There?" Her cheek. "There?" Finally, her lips, though it was as feather light and chaste as before. This time, when he pulled back, he said nothing, just stared directly into her eyes. They were still close, his lips hovering just over hers.
"Somehow I suspect you can as well." He sighed, the sound long-suffering, though the way his eyes crinkled in amusement showed he was just joking. "But I'm not going to make it easy for you." Waggled a finger, he grinned.
Taking another sip of the cider, he shrugged. "Let's just say it's a good thing I'm useful to have around, because I sure ain't pretty or charming." Obviously he was being self-deprecating, though there was a kernel of truth to the words.
Will blood tell
