DruidofDusk
Romantic Creature
- Despite her concern that she might have bored her companion, Faust seemed not in the slightest put out by her long winded monologue. In fact, he seemed even more intrigued, the strange shifting in his eyes belying interest and other emotions she was not social adept enough to be able to pinpoint from mere glances. When he removed his hand, she had to stifle a sigh of loss. She hated crowds, and as such had spent much of her life secluded from even smaller, more intimate company. His touch had been welcoming and comforting all at once; having it taken away again left her feeling bereft, and perhaps even a tad teased.
“Questions?” The diminutive female paused in confusion, but the feeling was quickly washed away when another, much larger form joined their duo. Shimmering eyes looked him up and down; skittering across his features and build curiously. The first thing she noticed was his obvious size. He was close in height to Faust, making her feel like a mouse, but he was much broader, perhaps twice that of the more lithe looking demon she had just danced with. A stone wall came to mind. Or perhaps a mountain. But this was all forgotten as she took in his clothes. The weaver grimaced at the sight, feeling legitimately distraught as she judged the stitching that held the precariously tight clothing in place, the weave and quality of the fabric, let along what fiber was used to create it. Whoever had dressed this man was a fool.
Which she had few doubts meant that he himself was that fool.
Had he just sniffed them? She wanted to believe that he had not, but her gaze narrowed nevertheless, the bottom lid pinching in scrutiny back at the barreled male returning the gesture. Desiree wasn’t sure what to make of his declaration. He stated that they would dance as if it was a predestined fact, not a question as to her willingness. Two sides of the reclusive woman battled over this, one delightfully flustered over the high handedness, the other resentful of the command. Her companion, however, drew her from her internal debate before it could truly begin by turning and lifting her comparatively miniscule hand to place the breath of a kiss upon its back. Never did his lips make contact, but the gesture still warmed the blush that seemed a permanent part of her cheeks this night.
“And you, as well. I hope to see you again later, Faust.” With the male gone, she was left with the hulking demonstration of testosterone that had seemed to glide out of nowhere. Fidgeting, uncertain, Desiree dipped her head down to allow the free tendrils of her hair to veil the sides of her face, shadowing her expression as she moved a few uncertain and cautious steps back towards the wall and away from the dance floor she had already been commissioned to resume her presence upon.
“L-Lord Xocsos, was it? I am..um..I am Desiree. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Who: Faust and Xocsos//Xocsos Where: Fringes of the ballroom Wearing: Homemade Attire
Feeling: Wary Doing: Cowering
OoC:
Feeling: Wary Doing: Cowering
OoC:
