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Things hadn't panned out in his favor since that damning night out. And honestly, by this point, being buried in a woman for over an hour seemed like overkill for both parties. Making it painfully apparent that Ivan wouldn't be getting the relief he needed from this woman either. After the brunette beneath him screamed out her third and final finish, Ivan began to feel like a real charity case, which wouldn't do. This wasn't meant for just her satisfaction.

Coldly shifting to pull out with a frustrated grunt, a whimper slipped from between the girl's slim lips as she dug her nails into his back. "Are you finished already?" The tiniest muscle ticked in his jaw, her breathless wail falling on deaf ears as Ivan chilled his skin to the point of near burning. Hissing in pain, she yanked her hands back to cradle her fingertips, leaving Ivan to untangle himself and step off the bed. Not willing to honor that stupid question with a response as he strode toward the bathroom.

His bone-deep chill continued to radiate from his skin, dropping the temperature in the room to unwelcome levels. Reading into his unspoken demand for solitude, the woman quickly began scrambling to pluck her gown off the floor and stitch it back on. Ivan wasn't usually the type to walk them out, but he hadn't failed to notice the shadow that loomed outside his doorway halfway through his conquest. Whoever it was must have received quite a musical, so the chances of them sticking around were slim, but his curiosity was peaked. Leaving his shower to run, he lazily draped a towel around his hips and met the woman at the door.

Twisting the knob and yanking it open, his free hand practically pushed the woman out the door. But when the brunette's stumbling abruptly paused, so did Ivan, and then his gaze followed hers to drop to the floor, locking on to a set of what was becoming far too familiar crimson eyes. It took the ice giant a breath to realize he wasn't dealing with some lustful daydream. The sight of Zajka's doe-wide eyes searching his for some reaction had a smile he wouldn't dare let take form, tugging at the corner of his lips. Ever since the night of the explosion, he had never expected her to return. Since it was apparent being with her lazy lover to the left- four doors down with the gold trimming on the door frame, to be exact- was more critical somehow. The man who couldn't stay awake for more than five minutes could somehow protect her— what a pathetic excuse for human flesh.

But no, he didn't think about it. All internal thoughts were buried deep in the freezing recesses of his mind. Even during their training sessions, Ivan had showcased his cold restraint well by waiting on her cues before allowing himself to touch her. A continuous effort to ignore that part of him that became addicted to watching her body arch into his small touches despite how cold they were, but what fed his ego even more, was how heated her gaze got when he was hard on her. Each connecting throw or maneuver that landed one of them on their back made it that much more difficult to stop thinking about her.

Despite what most thought of the Ded Morzo man, he wasn’t the type to force anything on unwilling participants. Each death in battle was expected and deserved; each woman he found beneath him was consensual. Paid for or not.

"You told me to use you. When it became too much. Not..."

Arching an eyebrow at the admission, he found too much joy in the hue of embarrassed realization that fanned over her body. The sight allowed a softness to fall over his features while she worked to hide behind her hands. What was plaguing the woman so severely that she found herself back at his door? When she looked back, his face fell into one of indifference, and no part of him was willing to verbalize the question aloud. Still, Ivan offered his answer by stepping to the side and granting her access, keeping his gaze glued to her as she stepped past the threshold and closed the door with a gentle click.

Standing back, he watched as she took in the humble space he had thoughtfully transformed into his first real home. Ignoring his discomfort at the sight while shifting his grip on his towel. Part of him prepared for her to notice the plethora of stolen goods lining his room, a bitter snap coating his tongue in preparation for the impending scold he would indeed receive from the spitfire of a woman he had created. But the ice giant would only be so lucky; instead, frustration quickly bubbled under the surface when the bunny's sights landed on the only visible personal items stuffed into his room.

Realizing a moment too late, his free hand shot out to grab her but was only met with threads of air as she unknowingly stepped out of his grasp. Fisting his hung hand in the air, he brought his fingers to his mouth as she honed in on the collection of memories he kept neatly lined on the shelf.

“What are these?"

Mistakes were made letting this one in his room.

Most women who stepped in were preoccupied with other activities, but this one was looking for the type of distraction he didn’t usually offer. Conversation ”Crimson God take me now.” He silently begged, gazing at the fireplace as though he might receive his gift early this year, even if the festival was months out. But the Crimson god knew all, so maybe he would grant this one wish early.

The silence hung thick in the room as Ivan tried and failed to devise an excuse. Sighing, he stepped up behind Zajka and grabbed the snow globe that held the least importance to him. The bobble housed a small family of four skating over a frozen lake, large evergreen trees encasing the small lake. Giving it a soft shake, snow flurries swirled through the intricate scene. "Snow globe. Zhey are..." The moisture was sucked from his mouth as he tried to ignore the flash of memories assaulting his mind. So many times as a child, he snuck from his father's kingdom. This specific globe was purchased as a result of one of those outings. After a boy he had become well acquainted with nearly died after Ivan failed to freeze the lake properly. "Glass trinkets sold at festivals. Not meant to be touched." It wasn't his cleanest lie, but how was she to know they were made to be shaken?

Lightly placing the globe back on the shelf, his fingers never left until it felt perfectly aligned with the others. Once centered, his head dropped closer to Zajka's ear, forcing his cold breath over her exposed skin. " Infact, zhis is a hands-off room for you Zajka, until you are ready for me." The thickness in his tone wasn't as forced as he would have liked it to be, but it still conveyed an unmistakable threat and a promise. If she touched them, he would have permission to touch her, and he was keenly aware of the positioning of everything in this room. "You have permission to sit on zhe bed a vait until I've finished my shower. Zhen you can tell me vhat I may do to be useful to you."


OOC :

"I'm not a toddler Kalb, I can keep my hands to myself."

The harsh snap rolling from her lips was more alluring than the hour of moans that had filled his ears minutes prior. Realizing just how easily she forced him into fighting a smile with only a few snarky words had him growing rather... tired. Why did he entertain her? Dancing on the edge of control, he held the fingers of his free hand just above the exposed skin of her shoulder, teasing the unnatural heat of her body as it radiated against his hovering palm. Then she was whirling in place to face him, her spiced scent wrapping around him on the breeze her hair created. The smell of her forbidden liquor and their close proximity made it that much harder for the prince to keep his icy hands off her. Slowly dragging his cold gaze from her cherry lips up to the blaze that flickered behind her crimson eyes—he took notice of the darkened hues that painted a permanent shadow under them. That was new; were they always this way? " Just what did that Lazey lover do to keep you up all night?" Maybe that was why the man slept all day, but if she was so set on saving herself for him, why was this Zajka so deprived of the rest she needed?

Disgust coiled through his stomach, abruptly realizing the pitiful turn his thoughts made. Why in seven frozen hells did he care if she was resting? Obviously, it was his unconscious need to dig for information. If the two torches were up at all hours of the night, and not ********.. the possibility of plotting or sharing information was higher. So, finding out why was beneficial to his mission.

"I won't touch anything." To his surprise, the heat in her gaze that promised verbal warfare slowly simmered beneath the weight of a.. gentle smile? The sight made him realize he hadn't seen one from her before. Wicked ones, accompanied by bared teeth and sharp remarks when sparing left one of their backs slammed into the mat. Yes. But this one was different; it softened every curve in her face and urged him to do the same in return. It was wrong. A smile like that wasn't meant for the likes of him.

Pressing the reaction down and raising an untrusted brow, Ivan stiffened as her warm fingers wrapped around his hand and puppeteered it into a too-familiar form. "This is Qatae Aliasbie, If I lie I have to cut off my pinky and give it to you." For a moment, Ivan stood frozen. Did she realize how much weight the intimate action held in his kingdom, in his family, in him? It rendered him speechless as the movement shattered through the thick barriers that barred the memory of his family. Exposing a billion promises he had formed over the years with his younger siblings to keep their secrets, to keep them safe, bending over backward to give them anything they needed. Then it was him as a child, standing with his pinky outstretched toward his older siblings, begging for forgiveness and some form of connection to them. But what he had done to their mother was unforgivable. He understood that. More was required of him; more of himself needed to be sacrificed to gain their favor.

Forcing down a dry swallow, he closed his eyes and brought their linked hands to his mouth, pressing his lips to their connected thumbs and sealing his end of the deal. Ivan held their hands there for a moment too long, selfishly using the warmth in her finger to recenter his thoughts. Then, with a slow, drawn-out breath, he moved their hands back so the pad of his thumb could gently catch her bottom lip as she went to do the same. " I'll vant more zhan just your pinky." The softness in his tone betrayed his attempt to double down on the warning he'd issued earlier. It was meant to be a cold snap to keep some distance between them, but he couldn't manage the usual bite in his tone.

Thankfully, a shower was just what he needed to refresh his mind and body. The painful bite of Ice-cold water pelting against his back reminded him of the plan he had to stick to: gain information, gain her favor, and do whatever was needed to get it.

Stepping out to haphazardly dry off, he tossed the towel over his shoulders and slipped into some boxers and a loose pair of sweats. Running the towel over his ears, he exited the bathroom, expecting to find Zajka cross-legged at the center of his room, if she even stayed at all. Instead, he saw the small woman in a mess of sandy hair, curled into a tight ball before the rows of snow globes. He leaned against the doorframe, watching a moment that would freeze in time for him, taking in the childlike wonder that graced her delicate features as she longingly looked.

"Why did I tell her she couldn't touch them?"

For the second time tonight, a stupid question filtered across his thoughts. What the heck was wrong with him? Grinding his jaw, he snatched the open bottle of vodka above his fireplace and moved toward the sand-woman who seemed destined to haunt his waking world. "Kalb, Can you shake one again?" The pathetic tone of her voice had him pausing, gripping the neck of his bottle tighter, frustrated by the woman's adorably innocent incessant need to mess with the things in his room. This was getting uncomfortable; his space wasn't suitable for this type of company and it was too late to steal a loveseat from someplace in the school. Huffing through his irritation, he strode to the bed, grabbed the iron footboard, and yanked it from its place tucked into the corner. Turning and pushing until the headboard was centered with the wall and the foot faced the fireplace.

Fisting his free hand, he brought it to his mouth and bit down on the knuckle of his pointer finger. White brows furrowing deep in thought as he contemplated how much moving the bed changed the overall ebb and flow of his room. It looked off, and it needed something...something... Sights landing on the white bearskin rug he had placed in front of his wardrobe, he kicked it into the space between his fireplace and bed. Better. If she wasn't going to sit on the bed, they would just have to make do with the floor.

Returning to Zahra's crouched form, he snatched the same globe off the shelf and crouched behind her. "Alright Zajka, but I get somezhing first." As Ivan spoke, he looped the same arm around her waist and yanked her back into his chest, ridding that force down onto the bearskin rug so his back could rest against the steel footer behind him. With her small frame curled perfectly into the space between his legs, he held out the snow globe and gave it a soft shake, using the flurry of glittering snow as a distraction if she dared to protest his movements after making demands.

But the soothing sight of swirling snow did the same for the ice giant, lulling his frustration enough to release a slow sigh as he reveled in the warmth Zajka's skin brought him. Finally, getting the chilled bottle in his other hand to his lips, Ivan hollowed his cheeks and pulled a large drink down his throat. Drinking until the burn in his esophagus matched the heat of where her skin connected with his. Popping the bottle from his lips, he gave the snow globe one more shake.

" Now, tell me vhat brings you here, and I might let you shake. Once."

OOC:

Zajka's laugh rattled through his brain, a gentle ring like that of silver bells as he curled her soft body against his. It was foreign to his ears; everything he had heard from her until now was laced with the heated venom he'd come to crave. But that sound settled comfortably in the crevasses of his mind, and he found it was small and too short. The feel of her thumb tracing a line on his wrist yanked him out of his thoughts, his eyes dropping to count the seconds between the calming rise and fall of her chest. It was almost... cute. How transfixed she was with the globe. More often than not, these little orbs sat stagnate on his shelf, simple reminders linked to past mistakes, but what were they to her? He flicked it again, a small smile threatening the corner of his lips as he felt her head lull naturally to the side so he could drink and not disrupt her line of sight.

The comfort in this small interaction was ruined the moment he asked his question. Left to watch as Zajka slowly crumbled beneath its weight, an empty look fell over her soft features as she shrunk to nearly half her size in preparation. A wave of frustration rolled through him at the sight. Was she dull enough to believe he wouldn't ask? That he would let this little intrusion happen without some form of payment? It might have prolonged the question if she had offered herself to him, but seeing as she was dead set on keeping the strict morals of her kingdom, there was little left to distract the ice prince from his objective.

"Have you ever lost someone when they are still living?" The question was an Icy surprise that hit too close to home and settled deep in his chest. Even with her back to him, Ivan had to fight to keep his features neutral as it circled through his mind. Never had the Ice Prince given someone the power to warrant the same sadness radiating off Zajka in palpable waves. His younger siblings were the closest he could think of; while he knew them by name, each interaction was in fleeting moments of passing. The most he'd learned of them in recent years were through too-short letters... But that seemed too surface-level for the question presented to him. Was the loss of time similar?

"But you have to kill that side of you, the side that desperately wants that person back no matter the cost." Her continuation was as hollowed as her reflected expression, the desperate bob of her throat hinting at more she was unwilling to share. The sight of it had him pausing, wondering what she had left out.. If it had been anyone else, any other subject, he would have pushed further, but he'd let her have her chosen silence since he couldn't stop the low hum of recognition from slipping past his lips. That was something he was familiar with. Keeping a part of him dead below ice was the only way to live. The only way he knew how to. Being the blackened coal of his family, he wondered if she really understood what burning a part of your soul felt like. If she knew how to use it as fuel the way he did to hone the razor-sharp edge of being Hyouden's blade. He didn't have the luxury of options as a weapon of destruction and protection. His sole purpose in life was to take it, with no questions asked and no second thoughts.

The room's stretching silence was a comfort to Ivan, giving him ample time to mull over thoughts he always ignored to the sound of crackling wood in the fire. While Zajka's, his opposite in all things, seemed to be shifting uncomfortably beneath it. The press of her back meeting his chest again yanked him from the caverns of his mind that her damning questions forced him into exploring. This was why he didn't form connections, it involved opening up more than he was willing to. But He wouldn't complain about the warmth her contact brought him; instead, he opted to double down by finding the sweet escape he often chased in finishing off his drink. At the clink of his empty bottle on the stone floor, his gaze lifted to find Zahra in the globe reflection, her tanned skin and glowing red eyes contrasting the snow-tipped trees and frozen lakeside. Daring to imagine what she would be like there... would she find beauty in those frozen hills? Would her gaze widen with wonder if she faced this cold in person? If this was the type of place she witnessed, maybe. But Yakutsk, how would she handle the blood-stained mountains, the way the sleet felt more like billions of needles piercing the skin? Could she still look at it with such wonder?

"Would you believe me if I told you I didn't come to talk? Or, at least, not about this. I haven't been able to stop thinking about three nights ago."

"Three nights ago?" Painting the repeated words as a question, Ivan tried to act like he couldn't recall exactly what she was talking about. While the events of that evening were a haze to him, the hypnotic trance that was so close to pulling her into his room was still freshly burned into his memory. He hated the way his mind had instantly filled with thoughts of her when the ground shook, then how badly he wanted her to come to him when he saw her in the hallway. It was better not to lead on how pleased he was to have her here now. Even as his senses heightened, keenly aware of her hand resting against his thigh, or how easy it was for him to see how pathetic and sad the smile reflected in his snow globe was as her right hand curled around his, asking to keep up his end of the deal. Did she really think they could simply slip back into the light-hearted teasing they had a moment prior?

No, if she was going to force him into remembering that night, he would show her firsthand everything he thought about doing to her if it had gone his way. A crooked smile snapped over his lips as he turned the globe, letting her fingers securely grasp one of his precious objects. " You know vhat I've come to realize Zajka?" His voice had grown husky, eyes trailing to watch a line of gooseflesh form as he abandoned her hand to the air so his fingers could brush up the side of her arm to toy gently with the thin strings of her nightgown.

"Vhen fire burns hot enough, it numbs the skin.." It was only five seconds of pain, the longest five seconds of his life, but still only minor seconds before the nerves in his forearms melted beneath the inferno of the man he'd been killing. Releasing the bottle, Ivan called a deeper chill over his fingertips as he moved to lace his fingers with the hand settled at his thigh, moving them to rest atop her still-bent knees. Keeping her small hand caught, his pointer and middle fingers traced the soft skin of her smooth thighs. " and vhen ice is cold enough, it burns. Does it not?" He questioned as his finger continued to slowly trail a tantalizing circle over her skin, inching lower with each slow breath he pulled from her. The hand toying with the strap of her nightgown curled over her collarbone as his head dipped down, lips pressing into the hook of her jaw and forcing her neck open for him. "Vith everything you have exposed to me tonight, you have made me realize just how similar our polar elements might actually be." How similar their situations might be.

With her intoxicating smell urging him on, Ivan found it impossible to stop his teeth from catching the rapid pulse beneath her skin. He hadn't intended to hurt her yet, no, but the memory of her dashing off into that lazy lover's room had his teeth pressing down harder as punishment, wanting to hear the pained gasp. The sounds of other women didn't seem to compare to her, and he wondered if this was what he had been chasing from them every night. His eyes snapped open, darkened gaze catching hers in the reflection of a still stagnant snow globe. Running his tongue over the skin caught between his teeth, he released her so his hand could force her crimson gaze up to his. "Tell me zhat you regret not coming into my room." There was no hiding the hunger in his eyes as he searched her face, waiting for her to stop him as their fingers circled closer to the coveted heat of her core. " Tell me, and I vill show you how easy it is to make that snow globe shake vithout moving your hands. All vhile keeping your precious purity intact."

OOC:

That sound she made rattled through him, and he found himself feeding into it like a starving sobaka in the mountains. He hated it. How could the music slipping from this woman be something he craved so fervently—so much so that no other sound compared? However, his enjoyment was short-lived, and his offer was quick to melt like a snowflake beneath the hatred burning behind Zajka's reflected gaze. Her placing the offered snow globe on the ground was telling enough. Pity. It seemed his enjoyment would be out of reach for a little longer.

She spun with cat-like ferocity, and having to face the icy cold rejection while keeping his body from reacting was proving difficult. Every fiber in his being told him to fight her on it, to press into that need she kept denying herself. So unwilling to accept his distraction after spewing that weak-minded admission, actually trying to entrust him with it. As though he had the capability to help her unpack how she handled the cold truth of life after war. What should he care if someone she loved so profoundly lost their mind to it? He had taken victims' minds in torture long before their bodies gave out, though he had never seen the repercussions of it carved into the features of another person.



"I am not your toy Kalb. You will not use me like one of your girls." Ivan's eyes widened, then narrowed in response to the sheer force she used to hoist the dead weight of his arms up and over his head. Refusing to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't get his body to move against her small frame. Couldn't convince himself to throw her off of him, too entranced with how her soft body had gone hard, sharp like the nails she dug as punishment into his wrists. The muscle in his jaw clenched, head arcing up into the sandy curtain that encased him, expecting to meet a welcoming threat in her gaze. But all he found was hurt and disappointment boring down on him, their pained heat lighting a fire of unrecognized frustration that blazed through him as she cursed through clenched teeth.

"Or did you think I'd forgotten what you were up to? Like I didn't spend the better part of an hour outside waiting for you to finish up with her, you insatiable beast."

A chuckle, dryer than any Funkazan desert they could pull Zajka out of, slipped from his throat. 'Finish' was a disgustingly loose term and the only reason it took him that damned hour. That laugh slowly bled into a groan; the feel of her heated fingertips burned a line over his body, forcing the reaction before he could catch it. His hands stayed pinned above him as though her phantom nails were still locking him in place. This wasn't the usual, for him to allow a woman so much opportunity to explore him, but she had proven herself in the training room, and he always liked to play with fire. Grinding his teeth together, Ivan pushed a calming breath through his nose as his head dipped back, basking in the contact of her palms on his chest.

"That being said, Jack," The temperature in the room plummeted, eyes shooting open to expose the frosty hue dipping into his power brought on. Ivan bared his teeth at her. Not at her, no, the name. He hated that name. And every pathetic, childish, weakminded memory dragged to the surface at its use. Tindrels of frost curled from his fingers, spreading over the wool fabric of the bedding. Then the damning woman was leaning forward, the heat of her breath dancing along his skin squandered beneath the soft press of her lips. The frost paused, then sprung into sharp sickles as she turned his brand on him. "Not coming into your room was one of the worst mistakes of my life."

The words Ivan wanted to hear were dampened beneath his childhood name. Blackened fingertips untangled from wool to catch her cheek, fingers curling into the soft twists of her hair as he yanked her to him, closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. Seeking the warmth of her skin as though it could burn away the memories threatening to stir. "Stop. Saying zhat ******** name." His words were a low growl, a demand that pressed into his grip on her. It was supposed to be a cover, a stupid idea his father had devised so he wouldn't be linked to the atrocities that weighed on it. A false guise of protection. As though it wasn't he who placed Jack under Serge's care, who sent a child to slaughter in hopes of creating a monster. Well, he'd done it, and now, in this school, Ivan was forced to relive the death of it. Each painstaking time Zajka let it slip from her lips.

" You talk of killing side of you. Jack is zhat side for me Zajka." Even saying the name tasted bitter to him, weakening his usual harsh tone down to a whisper barely above hers. Would leaning in to clear the flavor with her tongue push the delicate flame over the edge? With how she reacted earlier, he was sure he would lose his in the process, so he sought distraction in feeling her. His free hand moved to grip the soft flesh of her thigh, seeking its warmth while too-cold fingers clung to the silken fabric of her gown on their slow trail to the gentle curve of her hip. Attempting to recenter his focus using her spiced smell, the feel of her breath spinning over his lips. Somehow, he held firm away from her, the stinging brand she left him with a new type of leash.

Ivan opened his eyes, hardened Ice softening beneath the crimson in her gaze. Their unearthly blue glow dimmed as he continued, dredging up the past just as she so desperately wanted him to. " That child was killed long ago." Moving the hand at her hip to catch the snow globe, he held it upside down. The snow swirled, collecting at the top of the glass dome pressed against his palm. Facing his world flipped, the same as it had been when he was a child. Tightening his grip, a high-pitched creak snapped through the heavy silence in the room. The chill in his fingers seeped past the barrier the glass offered, freezing the globe. He wanted to break it, to watch that part of him crumble. If his care for the trinket-linked-memory didn't have his hand trembling, forcing him to place it gently back to the ground.

Attention snapping back to the woman still caught in his grasp, Ivan admitted through clenched teeth." I vant you to say it again." His thumb trailed her jaw, gaze falling to her lips. "Say it again, but use my name." His uncle would kill him for it, surely. This would be the third person he exposed his name to against his better judgment. At least there was the excuse of intoxication aiding his last mistake. Even he couldn't find the solid foundation of an excuse for why he needed to hear his name coming from her.

" Vhen it's only us. You vill call me Ivan. Jack dies for you too." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth; her preferred term of endearment slipped to the forefront of his mind. The hand at her cheek dropped to run down her back. Black tips faded, counting each small divot in her spine through the thin fabric of her nightgown. " Kalb around the others. If interaction is inevitable outside zhese valls." There was a conscious effort to struggle on the Funkazan pronunciation. Unwilling to highlight his knowledge of her kingdom's language just yet. Putting some space between them, Ivan sat back, searching for a reaction to the unveiled truth and trying to plan each possible outcome that could result from it.


OOC:

His admission set the room ablaze, the weight of her prolonged silence forming embers that carved a path through his veins, awaiting the dawning realization that would send this slippery slope they were on up in smoke. Setting his jaw, he searched her eyes for the recognition of the havoc it wrought on her kingdom—on so many others. His name was the promise of death for many. Would that be enough warning to keep her away?

It was a damning truth that should have done its job baring them apart, but like Ivan had come to realize, her lack of self-preservation was persistent and would come in the form of feather-light fingers tracing the forming bruise on his neck. She held no fear; Zajka was a fire determined to blaze through every frozen wall he erected in her path. ”Again?” The heated tease of her lowered voice caressed his mind, sending his head arcing to the side to bask in the warmth of her body pressing in close. "That night I should have come here, Ivan. To you." The sound of his name was enough to draw a groan from his throat, but when her lips parted to catch his skin again, it gave way to a sharp inhale that tightened his grip on her hip.

Watching her pull back through hooded eyes, he didn't overlook the unasked question blazing behind her opalescent gaze. Whatever had been there simmered beneath her downturned gaze, hidden beneath thick lashes and the gentle trail of her fingers., "You have it wrong, you know. Our elements are similar." He bristled at the blatancy of her bold opinion, surprised by her assumption that it had weight here as if her view on things was valid in this world. Then the tender brush of her thumb across his temple had the hard line his lips had pressed into softening to part, like an animal easing into accepting the forced revisitation of the topic from her point of view.

"If you are careful and don't do anything stupid fire burns away the pain. Ice soothes, leaving relief in it's wake."

Her heavily skewed perspective of their similarities quickly doused any inkling of arousal, brows knitting together beneath the realization of just how naive she was. It was difficult for him to look at, so he didn't. Dropping his gaze to the crackling fireplace beyond, Ivan's jaw tightened, a heavy breath hissing from his parted lips that prevented his opinion on healing flames and soothing ice from taking form on his tongue. In this lifetime and the next, Ivan would always stand firm in his belief that fire could only burn away pain after its destructive consumption of skin, and this so-called soothing contact with Ice... Did she know it would only last mere seconds before it threatened to sap the glow of life from flesh? His own blackened fingertips and scarred arms were living proof of it.

Then her body melted against his rigid form, the feel of her head resting on his shoulder drawing him from his thoughts as she sought refuge by burrowing into the nape of his neck, finally finding the courage to voice whatever he saw burning in her gaze earlier.

"Tell me you wanted me here that night."

She curled against him like a warm, weighted blanket as she spoke her demand. Leaving him to wonder what she gained from trying to intertwine their stories. His downturned gaze traced the thick lashes resting against her cheeks, smirking at how unwilling she was to face the uncertainty of his answer. And for what felt like the first time Ivan looked at her, really looked at her as though the haze Utopia's Jack placed over his mind peeled back to give Ivan a more transparent view that left him to selfishly ponder things about her. The gentle curve of her features lacked any of the sharp edges forged in battle, but the dark hues beneath her lashes hinted at too many restless nights. Jack was sure it was her lover that kept her up. But Ivan wondered if it was nightmares chasing the sleep away. Jack would have believed the unscarred, smooth, tan skin exposed to him meant she lived a pompous, safe life in the confines of a white castle. But Ivan was curious to know if she cheated the harsh realities life littered his body with using those healing flames. Jack assumed her lack of battle prowess showcased in those first days of their forced proximity that she was just a pathetic healer. But Ivan knew her country used her as a tool, and sent her into the raging flames of war to gain knowledge.

Just like he was doing to her now.

The cold realization had Ivan's hand retreating to catch the bottle at his side. Seeking the usual escape liquor offered, he hurriedly brought it to his lips, frustrated to find no burning dampness left to aid the dryness overtaking his mouth. A sigh of irritation slipped from his lips, only then did he take notice of the new warmth radiating over his throat. The arm he used unintentionally pressed Zajka further into his neck, and the sensation was similar enough for him to tighten his hold a little more so her soft figure could push further into his. Tapping the empty bottle against his bottom teeth, his gaze lifted to stare at the infuriating painting that still hung above his fireplace, eyes locking on the crimson gaze as though he were looking into the pair hidden in the nape of his neck. Dropping his voice into a low whisper, so the woman on the wall couldn't hear Ivan's answer.

" Four days I have vaited for you to make same idiotic mistake."

Two sharp knocks trailed the end of his admission, spurring Ivan into immediate action. Unwilling to let the word of Zajka's presence in his room reach his Uncle yet, Ivan caught the flannel throw blanket that decorated the footboard of his bed and yanked it over his shoulder, leaning forward to curl her small frame and easily conceal her beneath. Catching the threads of air filtering through his fireplace, he yanked a heavy gust into the room, extinguishing the flame down to weak embers that offered little light. "Chto ty khochesh'?!" He barked, an icy strain lacing his tone that had the veins in his neck bulging. The person on the other side of the door squeaked, seconds of silence stretching before his door inched open to expose one of the maids his uncle had sent to him previously.

" A-apologies for the intrusion M'lord. I've come to offer another gift from your uncle, as well as change your bedding..." Her meek voice dipped into a teasing tone as one finger uncurled from the flask in her hands to trail a seductive line from her chest up to her lower lip, exposing the small snowflake inked there. "That is, if you haven't been sufficiently satisfied toni.- " Ivan's gaze settled into one of uninterest, halted her sentence with a disgusted grunt and rigid dismissal of his hand. " Change bedding and leave gift." Keeping his voice cut and cold, he stared forward, the temperature in the room dropping as if to reiterate his disinterest in her prolonged company.

Still, the girl stood stagnant far too long for his liking, pale eyes lingering on the blanket. Maybe it was the fact she had never seen him use one if it wasn't for sleeping or ********. "Oh. I see M'lord. I'll get it done right quick." Ivan was sure there was no way to see the woman tucked beneath him, but the girl's quick steps to the wrong set of wardrobe doors that housed cheap sheets and wool blankets had him thinking otherwise. " Not those. Personal bedding you svin'ya." The lowered tone of his insult was laced with a hidden threat, one that brought that unearthly glow back to his eyes as the still plummeting temperature sent spindles of frost encasing the ground around him, stretching until the fireplace embers began hissing their demise. He had no qualms with killing the swine this school offered if they failed to do as he asked; a shiver danced up the woman's spine as though she could see the thoughts crossing his mind hidden in the intricate shapes of his frost coating the floor. Quickly, she turned on her heels to approach the nearby dresser and carefully pulled out a set of thick black cotton sheets, new pillowcases, and a familiar, oversized brown fur comforter.

While the maid worked to strip and remake the bed, Ivan tried his best not to graze his blackened fingertips over the small Zajka still cocooned beneath the makeshift tent his body had become. Right now, his cold fingers would only sap any natural warmth that radiated from her body, and he was sure the evading heat in the room would leave her shivering like the last stubborn leaf clinging to the branch of winter's approach. That would be an impossible giveaway to cover up if the maid didn't already know of her company, seeing as shivering was something the ice giant was incapable of.

Ivan kept his predatory gaze honed in on the maid, watching how her body reacted to the dropping temperature brought on by each second of her unwanted presence. It wasn't long before her shortened breaths became visible in the room, then her lips began to pale as her body struggled to conceal the shivers that had her fingers locked up. By the time she completed her task, the woman was practically trembling on her bolt out the door. Relief slumped Ivan's shoulders, thankful for the moment of solitude. After a passing breath, he used one finger to peek under the blanket, a smirk raising one corner of his mouth to find no freezing temperature or cover of darkness could extinguish the glowing ember of Zajka's wide eyes. "Are you cold?" He questioned with an almost playful quirk of his brow. " I can relight the fire. Or..." The subtle tilt of his head toward the bed sent white hair tumbling into his eyes, concealing the humor that danced through them at the memory of her scrunched-up nose at his previous offer. " Zhe blankets are clean now. Fur does good job circulating varmth quickly." He could think of other ways to warm up the body, but he'd already requested his personal bedding for the evening. So ******** would have to remain off the table. Tonight.

OOC: :waiting: Im sorry ; u ;

There was a strange enjoyment in finally seeing her shiver. It was something he knew she had been withholding from him, a small testament to that defiant fire coursing through her veins. As if everything he'd let her get away with up until this point hadn't showcased that fact to him. Then, there was her laugh, rattling through him again. It was a snow godsend that her head was pressing into his chest because, at this point, Ivan believed there had to be something wrong with him. Something he ate reacted to her laugh and sent his stomach rolling in a weird, fluttering snowflake kind of way.

"Fiiiiine." His smirk faltered beneath the brush of her fingers across his temple; the intimacy in the movement was still foreign to him, and his brow lifted in the slightest surprise. "So, making my room frigid is all I need to do to get her in bed." He'd have to remember that next time."You win this round, Kalb. I'll get in your stupid bed." Watching her struggle to get up was almost cute, as if that small silk nightgown didn't highlight every swooping curve of her body to him. " Nothing about real fur bedding is stupid." He informed, struggling to find an easy tone. Not because it wasn't natural, he wanted it to be.. but because her pause in that compromising position was..." Not at all alluring." That's what he told himself anyway, as if the sight of her figure on all fours between his legs wasn't the cause of his knuckles turning white in their struggle to stay at his side. But for a brief moment, he lost himself imagining it- His hand tangling into her hair, yanking her mouth back to his so he could bask in the taste of her tongue again. What were the chances those succulent lips would pepper a heated trail down his chest? What would those nimble fingers feel like curled into his sweatpants, around his-"But you still have to relight the fire if I do. Someone made it freezing in here." Her voice jolted him out of a rampant daydream, perplexed by his mind's desperate turn.

Yeah, he was a horndog... Ivan often sought the physical release women had to offer, but he couldn't remember the last time he daydreamed this much about a specific woman. Blinking the distant haze from his eyes, he offered her comment a subtle eye roll. " Is not zhat bad Zajka." This chastisement came easier, knowing that her fingers and toes were still well intact. - he checked.- that she would be completely fine. Opting not to argue with the quivering ember, he pulled himself up, grabbed two stones off the mantel, and dipped into a low crouch before the fireplace; he balled them in his hand and struck them together. Clack. Sparks danced over the wood but refused to stick. The sound of his bed creaked in the background. Clack. And the soft flutter of her giggle, accompanied by the rustle of sheets in desperate search of warmth, brought another smile to his lips. Clack. Why wasn't this thing lighting?

Realizing that his ice was still coating the logs, he touched them directly, seeping the chill from them. "You know the saying 'a snowball's chance in Funkazan?'" Clack A low sound of acknowledgment reverberated up his chest; he had heard the phrase before, though he faired just fine in funkazan. Not that he enjoyed any of his time there. "They might need to fix the phrase. If Hyouden is this cold, I might perish. And I can't imagine anyone else from Funkazan would survive either." A laugh rolled from him, finding the comment amusing as though the thought of her being Hyouden hadn't crossed his mind earlier in the evening. " Is why Hyouden is such a fortress. The motherland is not kind to the weak willed." He spoke bluntly, careful not to give away any secrets of his homeland. "But outside of forcing thin skins to layer, there is stories of other options for easy survival in my homeland." Most of them were fairytale stories, but those were law to some in Hyouden.

*Cl-Clack* Finally, the flame stuck, and Ivan pressed his knee to the ground to exhale into the flames, urging their rapid growth. "Ivan?" The low hum of his name on her tongue lured his attention back, and once again, his damn stomach felt like a shaken snow globe at the sight of her small frame tucked neatly into his bed, caressed by the thick fur of a blanket he nearly died trying to get. Not that he would tell her the beast he had to kill to get such nice bedding. "Come to bed? Her invitation hung in the air as he stood awestruck by the night's events and how she managed to make her way into his bed without sleeping with him. But the sight of her there magnetized him, eyes trailing the red flush staining her shoulders, fingers, and nose. As he folded beneath her demand, his fingers curled around the air in the room, tugging the threads to send the heat of the fire circulating quicker. It was nothing more than a precaution, not at all because he cared... Since he liked seeing her shiver. It was more that he worried those violent tremors would keep him up all night.

When he finally slid beneath the sheets, his unused arm smoothly forced its way between her legs, hooking his hand around her thigh to pull her body onto his. Curling his fingers around her knee to keep her thigh rested comfortably over his hips, his other arm snaked its way around her waist, twisting her figure onto his as his back settled flat against the bed. " No complaints tonight Zajka," He spoke with a sleepy smugness lining his voice. Laying out his own demand as he uncurled his fingers from her knee to trail a cold line up her thigh, over her hip and spine to brush through the sandy strands of her hair like she'd done to him. "If you are going to find sleep here, I get to decide how and zhis-" His finger gazed her jaw, bringing her face up to his so she could witness his enjoyment in doing it. A huff of amusement ruffled the small hairs lining her face as he leaned, bringing his mouth so close it brushed against hers the next time he spoke. " is my first demand."

A low rumble passed his lips in a sigh at the teasing of her lips against his. The success he had in driving himself more insane forced him to release her chin so his head could drop back into the plush lining of his pillow, the weight of the world pressing into him. There needed to be some point to all this, if his uncle found out about her company he would push for more answers. All he had learned in their time together was that she was a violently fast learner, and her people used her. It was nothing special. "Zhe second is a story.." He started, his tone thick as the lie coated his tongue. "to lure in zhe sandman." He was sure her country had heard of the sleep bringer, its name hinting and Funkazan origins.

OOC: Let me know if you need more o.o