i keep on running toward the fire

And if you feel like night is falling
I wanna be the one you're calling

There was a healthy curiosity about magic that perhaps partially fueled the question, but mostly it was a desire to get to know her better - to get to know all of her. Her magic was a part of her, as integral to her being as breathing. He wasn't one to judge; magic, in his eyes, was simply a tool to be used. It wasn't the magic that tended to cause problems - it was the individual wielding it. And that could be true of something as simple as his daggers, not just magic.

As she listed off a wide variety of magics, showcasing them between her fingers, his eyebrows raised. It was impressive, the number of elements and schools of magic she had mastery over. It was no small thing, to develop a skill or a craft, and her clear commitment to her magic was a testament to her dedication.

He felt the warmth of her healing magic, and though he hadn't been feeling particularly bad, he felt more fresh, more alive, when she let the magic go. Her compulsion magic, though, he was entirely unprepared for, even with her warning. As she spoke - kiss my cheek - he was overwhelmed with the desire to do just that. Obediently, he bent to place a chaste kiss on her cheek before straightening. He wondered how that worked, exactly - how did he know, for example, that this date wasn't just a compulsion that she'd imposed upon him? But he remembered the raw vulnerability of the night before, and he decided that it was simply a matter of trust. Either he trusted her or he didn't, and if he didn't, there was no point in taking things any further.

"Impressive," he rumbled. "You're a woman of many talents." Dangerous, perhaps, but all the more intriguing for it. Then, with a grin: "Your turn."

'Cause I believe that you could lead the way

George