[The smile he wears is warm, and he nods. He doesn't intend to make any demands of her, but he certainly doesn't mind it when she orders him around.
Alucard comes in closer, leaning in and pressing his lips softly to hers. Not because he thinks of her as fragile, but rather he does enjoy a more gentle approach part of the time.]
[She tips her head, returning the kiss just as gently. There's a time for roughness, and god knows she likes it that way, but there's something wonderful about softness as well. Her fingers slide over his cheek, and when they part, she smiles up at him.]
Mm. Not tonight, I think. But I'm staying in your bed, if you'll let me.
[But he's definitely going to be cozying up to lay down next to her. A pause, then he holds out his arm if she'd like to come in for some snuggling. He's never really opposed.]
[She hesitates for a few seconds. But . . . there's no real harm in it, not really, and she shifts, climbing into his arms. Her head tentatively rests against his chest.]
You really don't have to apologize to me so often, you know. It's very sweet, but you don't have to.
[She raises her head, staring up at him for a few seconds. She isn't certain if that's meant to be a dig at her, but just in case: he gets the raised eyebrows. But that only lasts for a few seconds; then she's back to resting on his chest.]
I suppose that's something. Better than certain people . . . I'm still angry with him.
[She settles back down again. She's silent for a long few seconds, and then:]
On paper, he should be everything I despise. Sometimes, he is. He's arrogant and patronizing and thinks too highly of himself. Even tonight, he was utterly-- I had typed out that entire rant and of course it sent to him, and the ass had the audacity to not only read it, but ask for elaboration. And then, when I yelled at him for it, he--
[She scowls.]
I should loathe him. Instead, I find myself drawn to him. And I dislike that.
There are times in which we find qualities in others to be bothersome or distressing, but there are other things we enjoy about them regardless. It can be irritating, I understand.
[She huffs a sigh and turns, pressing more firmly against him.]
He's intelligent. A dry sense of humor, which suits me. Helpful, in his quieter moments. Not as sadistic as he pretends, though more sadistic than the average man.
[She tips her head, burying her face against his neck.]
Why are we discussing this? Why don't you talk about your painting, or the fact you can turn into a bat, or the fact you're a coward when faced with a woman in her nightgown--
Now first of all, I feel like I have a proper fear of an angry woman in a nightgown when I know she is fierce and not to be trifled with, so you're welcome for that one.
[She shifts again. This seems to be a theme of the night, she's going to just shift and squirm until she's atop him fully, resting her chin on his chest. One bare leg kicks up idly, as she absently waves a hand til his overly large sleeve slides down her arm.]
I'm not thanking you.
[But she has to think about that. A wolf, a bat, and mist. One of those things is not like the other, but rather than the million and one questions that would normally come, she simply hums.]
[She stares at him for a long few seconds. He's enormous (or perhaps just the size of an average wolf, which are also enormous, whatever), and her instincts are demanding she not go anywhere near it. But--]
Your shapeshifting needs to study up on conservation of mass.
[Tentatively, she reaches for him, her fingers brushing very lightly against his belly.]
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Why don't you come kiss me, and we'll see where we go from there?
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Alucard comes in closer, leaning in and pressing his lips softly to hers. Not because he thinks of her as fragile, but rather he does enjoy a more gentle approach part of the time.]
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Mm. Not tonight, I think. But I'm staying in your bed, if you'll let me.
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Of course. Stay as you'd like, then.
[But he's definitely going to be cozying up to lay down next to her. A pause, then he holds out his arm if she'd like to come in for some snuggling. He's never really opposed.]
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You really don't have to apologize to me so often, you know. It's very sweet, but you don't have to.
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Suppose I haven't noticed that sort of thing. I was raised with manners, after all.
[Not that he equates that with apologizing so much, but he also doesn't want to think about why he has done that a lot.]
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I suppose that's something. Better than certain people . . . I'm still angry with him.
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What exactly about it angers you?
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[She waves a hand impatiently, scowling at the wall. She's silent for a long while, and then tips her head up, looking at him.]
You realize, Adrian, if you speak a word of this, I'll ruin you. I can, at this point. It wouldn't be difficult.
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Rosalind, you have my word, I shall not whisper a single thing that you mention to anyone else.
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[She settles back down again. She's silent for a long few seconds, and then:]
On paper, he should be everything I despise. Sometimes, he is. He's arrogant and patronizing and thinks too highly of himself. Even tonight, he was utterly-- I had typed out that entire rant and of course it sent to him, and the ass had the audacity to not only read it, but ask for elaboration. And then, when I yelled at him for it, he--
[She scowls.]
I should loathe him. Instead, I find myself drawn to him. And I dislike that.
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What do you like about this man?
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[She says it terribly blithely.]
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Anything else?
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He's intelligent. A dry sense of humor, which suits me. Helpful, in his quieter moments. Not as sadistic as he pretends, though more sadistic than the average man.
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Well, at least he seems to have some redeeming qualities. What would you demand of him, regardless of whether or not it was possible?
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[She tips her head, burying her face against his neck.]
Why are we discussing this? Why don't you talk about your painting, or the fact you can turn into a bat, or the fact you're a coward when faced with a woman in her nightgown--
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[But he smiles and kisses the top of her head.]
If you want to discuss something else, we can.
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I gave you a variety of topics.
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And I can also turn into a wolf. And mist.
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I'm not thanking you.
[But she has to think about that. A wolf, a bat, and mist. One of those things is not like the other, but rather than the million and one questions that would normally come, she simply hums.]
That must be convenient. How big is the wolf?
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[And he lets her, because it doesn't bother him and he rather likes a good snuggle.]
A bit bigger than a normal wolf, I suppose? I can show you sometime. Or now, I'm told I'm quite fluffy.
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[She waves a hand, lazily imperious.]
Show me. Do it.
fuckinggg dreamwidth
The eyes are still golden. The scar is still there. It's still very much Alucard. He lays next to Rosalind, tail wagging.]
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[She stares at him for a long few seconds. He's enormous (or perhaps just the size of an average wolf, which are also enormous, whatever), and her instincts are demanding she not go anywhere near it. But--]
Your shapeshifting needs to study up on conservation of mass.
[Tentatively, she reaches for him, her fingers brushing very lightly against his belly.]
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