A warm meal and a quiet night

KIADA curl your hands into fists, and sharpen your nails. His tongue darts out to brush against her nose, and she can feel the coarseness of it as her question rumbles up toward him — her iceberg gaze taking in all the spots and whiskers, his far more boxier head than she bears in this form. His head nears hers and she brushes her own against his, tufted ears flickering against him as if she’s batting him as he hums through the attuned bond. And then the pressure and weight of him is lifted, shifting to move toward the door as he shifts into himself and she does the same, taking a second to straighten the furs that line her body. His hand is extended and she takes it, gracefully slipping over to his side, embracing the closeness of him as she offers him a brighter grin. She knows where his room is, and she’s already thankful for the way a majority of the other patrons that live here are already squirreled away in their rooms. It gives her the time to focus on him too. Reluctantly she lets his hand go as they reach his door, and she leans against the doorframe partially as she focuses on him to unlock it, half tempted to make it more difficult in pulling him in for another kiss. But she doesn’t, not until the room is open and they can be by themselves. Still, however, her gaze is shadowed and sultry, a pinpointed sharpness as she keeps them trained on him. the next time a man tells you to smile, show him bloodstained teeth.