loccent | run with wolves

Entry tags:

verse: run with wolves

run with wolves | open post.

Characters

Asil, The Moor
A very, very old wolf and a member of the Marrok's pack.

Jang Eun
Previously of Carmel Valley, sent to Aspen Creek by her former Alpha.

Jesse Hauptman
Daughter of the Alpha of the Columbia Basin Pack

Joshua Brennan
Burden-bound. A Sin-Eater paired with the ghost of a long-dead soldier.

PREMISE

All the stories are true. Years ago, the Fae came out because technology was making it harder and harder for them to hide, and it's been a couple of years since the werewolves did the same. The world is changing day by day. Humans and the paranormal live side by side, but it's not easy nor is it simple. While the Marrok has taken great lengths and care to preserve the werewolves' PR front, everyone - wolf, fae, vampire and other - know that it's only a matter of time before the humans start thinking that perhaps the other stories meant to warn of the dark are true.

This is an open post set in the universe of Patricia Briggs' Mercy Thompson series. The books are amazing and you should definitely check them out. More information via this Wiki link. The rules are simple: Drop a prompt, leave a tag, and let's play!

THREAD TRACKING

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's difficult to think or settle herself once she makes it back to the cabin. A thousand thoughts rush through her mind about the conversation she shared with Asil over wine, the truths they revealed and the tentative agreements they came to. It wasn't a negotiation of course, but there was a discussion as they tried to determine where they both stood with each other. What their intentions might be.

He wants to kiss her, and he thinks about something more than friendship with her. Eun flatters herself to think that he means more than a physical relationship. He would have told her if that was something he was considering, wouldn't have said he wants to get to know her better. She might feel guilty for being open to Asil and what apparently is growing between them in light of the fact that she moved to an entirely different state to get away from such things, if it wasn't for the drastically different motivation he has from the members of her last pack.

It's a full half hour before Eun decides on what she wants to bake them for breakfast the next morning, and with all of the ingredients at hand she begins. There isn't much for her to do that night. She pulls out her dry ingredients in advance, measuring and mixing them into a bowl for the morning. The wet ingredients get measured out and put into other containers in the fridge for her to mix when she awakens. She won't be up at dawn, but she'll be up early enough to mix everything together and bring it over to Asil's to rise and then bake. The act of organization and beginning the process of creating is soothing and calming for her, and by the time she's done she thinks perhaps she'll be able to sleep alright...

By the time she slips into bed, he occupies her thoughts fully once more. More than that, in the quiet and dark, curled up under the covers, her mind drifts to the way he'd held her hands, how he'd kissed htem and she'd caressed his. Eun can't say that she hasn't felt a flare of desire for someone recently, she's seen attractive men in the world and thought they were hot enough she might have hit on them in a bar, given the opportunity. The difference now is that before, she would go out to find someone to sleep with because she wanted to, or she'd go on a date because someone asked her. It's the first time she's met someone and been so taken by them that her desire and her urge is for them specifically.

It's the first time she's actually felt the desire to know someone beyond the surface level. To hear about their life and their history, their thoughts and feelings and what makes their eyes light up.

Sleep comes for Eun, eventually, and she doesn't wake until after dawn, when the sun is still rising over the ridge. She shuffles into the kitchen and mixes her ingredients together to let the dough rise, and then slips into the shower to wash and try to wake up a bit more. In the quiet of the morning, she feels less heated than she did the night before. As they'd spoken over wine, she'd found it hard not to ask him to kiss her then and there. She'd wanted him to say he could kiss her without taking it further so that she could feel his mouth on his and know he would be able to pull back when she couldn't. She'd wanted to see his eyes darken with desire, feel the rise of her wolf, and act as impetuously as she had in the past with others. Only now it would be more, something better than scratching an itch.

Her mind turns over these thoughts in her head as she gets ready. Eun leaves her hair loose down her back and applies only enough mascara and lip color to keep from seeming washed out. It's not unusual for her to take care with her appearance before going out for herself, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't taking into account Asil and wanting to look appealing to him. She slips into a pair of leggings that make her legs seem long even at her height. A tank top goes on next, plus a button down shirt she leaves open enough to wear slightly off-shoulder. Socks and boots go on next, and her heavy coat waits at the front door to slip on before heading to her car. With time to spare, she heads to the bookshelf where she's unpacked a handful of her favorite volumes of poetry, and selects the one she quoted from the other day. Eun adds a novel to it and tucks both into her bag before heading back to the kitchen to check on her rising dough.

Now that it's getting close to the time for her to leave, she can't help but feel a little flutter in her stomach. If they'd simply done this from the start, would she feel the pressure she does now? The weight of these visits? She doesn't mind the weight of course, but after the night before it certainly feels heavy with potential that wasn't there before.

And she's excited for it.

Wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, she stares at her bowl of dough before deciding it can continue rising on the ride over. By the time she gets there, she'll need to turn the oven on to pre-heat anyway and perhaps the task of preparing breakfast for them both will give her time to get comfortable with him that morning. With a plan in mind, she packs everything up. Her bag, her dough, the cookie sheets she plans to bake with, the cooking spray, and tosses it into her car. With a text to Asil, she lets him know that she's on her way over and just...goes.

She drives before she can talk herself into delaying, knowing that she won't be able to relax until she's there. Knowing that she wants to see him sooner rather than later.

Oh, if her friends could only see her now, so thoroughly rattled by man.

It's a thought that gives her cause to chuckle a little to herself, to smile as she knocks quietly on Asil's front door.]

[ He woke before dawn feeling oddly rested, in spite of the intensity of last night's exchange. In the dark, Asil pads about his household, barefoot and in nothing but a pair of pajamas. His routine is a welcome balm on most days, but today it is comforting in a different way. Though he feels his wolf alert and close enough to the surface, it is quiet and still. It is unusual and more than a little disconcerting. Then again, the last week and some change has been interesting by all accounts.

He puts water on the stove. While he owns an electric kettle, he rarely uses it when putting together his morning cup of tea.

He sees to his plants first. Gardening is not pristine work, and with a guest due to arrive, he would prefer to shower after digging around in the soil. So he fusses over the roses his son sent him and sings softly to them a few verses of the same song he used to help Kara through her Change from wolf to young girl - and then he gathers tomatoes and some leafy greens from the cold frames that line one side.

He's set up in the outdoor breakfast nook with his laptop, dressed in jeans and a simple, loose, brown cotton shirt, when his ears catch the rap of knuckles against his front door. He taps send briskly, and the email correspondence to Hussan is off into the ether.

When he finally opens the door, he leans idly on the frame to his sanctuary, a warm smile touching his features as he takes the sight of you in. ]

Buenos dias. I trust the drive over was uneventful?

[As he opens the door, Eun offers him a small smile, chin lifting a little. Her hand adjusts the strap of the bag on her shoulder as her weight shifts from one foot to the other.]

Uneventful and peaceful. Enough I almost wonder if I should be getting up earlier around here to enjoy it better.

[Her gaze shifts from Asil, who looks quite comfortable in his jeans and slippers, to the interior of his house. She could see the hothouse from outside, but the interior has been a mystery until now.]

I came bearing breakfast, if you won't mind delaying a house tour long enough for me to put it in your oven.

[ His home has changed since he started renovations. Painting and building gave him something to do, put his finances to work, and made good on the promise that perhaps one day he would be prepared to receive guests.

While the exterior of his home is rustic American, the warm and homey tones of the indoors is a callback to Europe. Bran had laughed once, remarking that the old wolf thought that the "Spanish revival" trend might appeal to Asil - and he was right.

The tiles are terracota, warmed for Montana's cold climate by an assortment of persian rugs. The walls are a warm honey offset by the occasional white and wooden beams crossing the ceiling. There are lamps - all antiques or faux antiques, and lanterns grouped together in lieu of a chandeleir; the design a callback to the beauty of the Alhambra.

He likes turquoise. The color shows up in the odd piece of pottery, in the glass vases that give a range of roses simple homes on an open fqce bookshelf filled with carvings, books both old and new, as well as the odd trinket. It peeks out among the earthy patterns and colors of the cushions carelessly arranged on a heavy, wrought iron living room set and dots a border in what is clearly a warm and inviting kitchen. A pair of french doors lead to his garden and greenhouse, though a mechanism for an airlock expertly keeps the warmth of his hothouse at bay.

Werewolves like the cold. In the summertime, an airlock keeps his home from growing too stuffy. ]

The tour can wait. I can brew tea while you work.

[Eun follows Asil inside, at least just inside the door, and closes it behind her. She sets her things down long enough to pull her boots off rather than track dirt in over his beautiful rugs. Setting them out of the way by the door, she then scoops up her things again to follow him in deeper and toward the kitchen.

She loves the look of it. He's clearly put his touch on the cabin, with an assortment of items that speak less of trying to present a cohesive interior design and more of creating a space that is his. Eun doesn't need to be an expert to see what the items that look antique are just that, rather than created to seem older. It's all quite warm and homey, even for all that it's clean and uncluttered.

She moves to the oven first, and in short order sets it to start pre-heating. Then, stopping at the kitchen counter, Eun carefully lowers the larger of her bags there and begins unloading it. The pans, the bowl of dough, the parchment paper.]

I like mine with honey, if you have any. [In easy, practiced motions, she sets the pans out and parchment paper on top of them. The dough comes out next, onto a board she brought with her. With her hands quickly coated in flour, she shapes the dough quickly, as to not overwork it, and pulls a knife out to slice the dough in half. It's reshaped again into two smaller balls, and cut into pie shapes which she quickly arranges on the parchment paper. Scones.

With his keen senses, he'll no doubt pick up the smell of apricot, honey, and almond. As she works, she glances back over at Asil, clearly in her element.]

I hope you're not taken aback at how easily I made myself at home in your kitchen, but I didn't want the dough to sit out too long before popping them in.

[ He's already heating water and moving around her as if her presence in his kitchen is a given rather than the exception. He sets a tea set on the counter by the sink and then turns around to lean back and... take in the view. ]

I meant what I said when I told you that you were welcome here.

[ Her movements tell him that she does this often enough, and his nose clues him in on what she might be making.

Tilting his head a little, watching her but refrains from saying anything else. He promised to behave. It's not her fault that she looks right in his private spaces; or that watching her knead the dough makes him wonder how her hands might feel on his skin. ]

Yes, but most people don't make themselves so comfortable in the first five minutes.

[Eun turns her attention back to the scones, cutting the sticky dough and placing it on the parchment paper. Her hands pat and gently form them into better triangles for a more aesthetically pleasing shape once they're done baking, and before long she has two cookie sheets ready with scones. Her hands are a mess but she looks pleased with the results of her efforts. This is one of her favorite recipes, simple and delicious, and in moments the oven beeps to signal it's ready, and she's popped both trays in with easy confidence.

For that time, when she was baking, when she had a mission to attend to, it was easy to focus on that and less on his presence around her. But it had been impossible to ignore him entirely. Impossible to not track where he was walking in the kitchen, what he was doing, and always what his proximity was to her. Her wolf had noticed, had stayed aware even as Eun had focused on the scones. Now that they're in the oven, with a timer running down to the earliest they might be done, there's nothing to hold her attention or draw it away from him. She goes to the sink to wash her hands of flour and dough, to clean up the small mess she's made, and turns back after with a small smile on her face. Eun dries her hands with a kitchen towel and then, sheepishly, starts to shrug her heavier coat off.

The brush of fabric against fabric pulls the button-down shirt more off shoulder, but Eun doesn't draw it back up, instead draping it over a nearby chair where she'd left her purse.]

It'll be about half an hour until they're done. You don't mind waiting that long do you?

[ He had thought to offer to take her coat since flour might have ended up on the cuff. But he'd realized that it would make too easy an excuse to break his promise to behave, so he'd let it be.

He's stepping into her space - just enough for him to scent clean soap and the faint whiff of sweat on her skin, but far enough that he's not crowding her.

His wolf has some ideas how they might pass the time. But he figuratively pushes his other half aside. ] Not at all.

Would you like to see my garden? It takes a while for the water to boil, and after a quick tour I should be able to brew our tea.

[Eun doesn't back away when he steps into her space. He'd brushed past her closer when she'd been working on the scones and he'd been preparing water for tea, but this is different. Her wolf is fully alert, but not tense at his approach. She lets her gaze meet his briefly before it passes over the rest of his face, letting him have a moment to be near her. To take in her scent.

She wonders if he'll do something to greet her properly now that she's not busy, but he keeps his hands to himself. It's early enough in the morning that she doesn't mind his good behavior, pleased just by the fact that perhaps some part of him had contemplated the opposite.]

That sounds perfect, I'd love to see your garden.

[Her hand rises up, palm up, offering to let him take it if he'd like.]

I have to pick out a spot to settle in to eat scones and read, after all.

[ She offers her hand and he takes it - drawing it up to his lips for a quick kiss. ]

Then I shall lead the way.

[ He couldn't resist and his wolf stirs, restless but otherwise behaved, and he wonders if it is because they are in accord: they do not wish to frighten her. Though his wolf is half-fixated on wondering what her mouth would feel like beneath his.

Asil guides her through the french doors, fingers quick to type in the codes that release the air lock. The greenhouse is warm, but not too much that the fragrance of his roses might be oppressive. ] I was deadheading this morning.

[ His laptop is sitting quietly on the table, idling. Beside it is the clutter he'd left from the flowers he'd packages for an order he plans to ship this afternoon. He doesn't sell his roses. But sometimes he amuses himself and sends out clippings to aficionados interested in his work - under an alias and reachable through an address that is buffered by several others. ]

The roses I told you about, the ones from my son, are on the far end.

[It pleases her to see that when offered and opportunity, he takes it. Not just her hand, but the chance to press his lips to the back of it once more. Her hand squeezes his gently in response, her wolf biding its time for now, and she patiently waits for him to lead them into the greenhouse.

The warmth she feels as the doors open is wonderful, and she smells the freshness of the air with so much greenery and sighs. It's clean inside, and well kept, even as it's also clear this is something of a working space for him. His computer only earns a passing glance, with her attention caught instead by the blooms around her. Jaw dropping slightly, she takes a few steps in herself, not content to be led for a moment as she goes to the ones that draw her eye first. They're a mix of white and bright pink, and the ones that Eun recognizes quite well on a bush. Leaning down, she takes in their scent with obvious pleasure.]

Double delights. My mother has three bushes of these in our front yard. I grew up with them.

[She doesn't linger beyond that, moving slowly but steadily toward the end where the roses from his son rest. She's careful not to touch, not to even move too close, but her expression is clearly admiring as she gives them the attention they are due.]

These are lovely too. Are they not commonly found in the States? Or just special as they're a gift from your son?

[ There's a warmth in his chest that blooms outward as he lets her wander in his greenhouse. He is vain, this is true. But his roses are more than just a hobby - they are a passion that has lasted more than a few centuries.

The roses Hussan sent him are bright red - the kind lovers used to offer to their beloved. And while they are not wholly uncommon, this variety is particularly special. ]

They are mine.

[ He let her go, content that the roses were calling to her. When Eun turns around, she'll find him standing, feet a fair width apart, as though he were a noble from another time altogether standing in his little kingdom. His hands are tucked in his pockets and his eyes are soft, even if his voice brims with pride in those three words.

Softer now, as he comes up behind her, one hand settling on the small of her back as he reaches for a cutting he'd set aside for her. ]

Hussan had not told me that he'd found someone to recover my estate in Spain. I left my roses behind when I fled Spain and later, the European continent.

I didn't think any of them had survived.

Edited 2020-04-15 05:50 (UTC)

[Eun glances back at the roses with his three words, expression briefly perplexed as she absorbs those three words. If they were an object of some sort, she might think that it was a belonging of his that was returned to him. But these are roses and--

--and they are of his own making. A variety he managed to create himself. Red and vibrant and lovely to behold. She looks back at him, at the stance he takes, and feels something in her stir. A glimpse of who he must have been before he came here. There isn't power in his stance so much as a certain confidence and pride that seems to come to him as easily and naturally as breathing. It is not forced, or feigned.

It's impossible to look away from him until he is all but beside her, and the wolf within stirs at the brush of his hand at her back. Solicitous, and oddly intimate in the same way he holds her hand can be. She follows the movement of his other hand with her eyes as he picks up a cutting, feeling strangely emotional as he relates the history of the flowers. Her voice is a low, warm murmur, gaze centered on the rose.]

You must be so, so pleased to have them with you again, Asil. You can plant them all here and have them with all the others, right?

[ He smiles, and there's a look that is hopeful but tentative. ] I hope so.

[ His voice stays soft, but the emotion is there. These roses are as much his children as Hussan is his heir. ]

Montana's climate is harsh. My children thrive in heat and humid spaces. But I am hopeful-- [ he chuckles, low and pleased ] --and money for upkeep and the latest horticulture technology is not a problem for me.

[ One of the benefits of a long life is that one amasses more riches than one can spend.

Offering her the rose now: ] For you.

[ He does not know if anyone has told her that he guards his blooms as jealously as a dragon might hoard it's gold. To date, he has only given cuttings to his Alpha, to Anna, to Kara and her mother. Eun will be the fifth in at least a hundred years. ]

[There is no guarantee for these roses, it seems, so they must be precious indeed. Still, if they do not take, there must be more on the estate to send again, if need be. For Asil's sake, and his son's, she hopes they bloom in this greenhouse and flourish.

It sounds as if he'll have no issues supporting them, and Eun spares a brief thought in wonder if she'll ever live as long as some of the wolves she's met to amass the same kind of wealth. The thought is interrupted however by the offer of the rose.

She looks up at Asil, startled that he gives her one of these, that are so precious. Once more she glances down to the rose he offers, hands rising to cup it carefully and tentatively. Uncertain. She does not know how he guards his flowers, how rarely he gives them to others, she doesn't have that context for his offer. But she knows these are precious to him. He calls them, these recently recovered blooms, his children.]

Are you certain?

[Eun asks to give him a chance to change his mind, but while she hesitates, there is a part of her that covets the rose she's been offered. It's brilliant and lovely, and that it comes from him makes it all the more a treasure. Priceless.

Is this what he means then, when he speaks of wooing?]

Yes.

[ It's not lost on him, the tender way which she cups the rose. Nor does he realize that his answer does, in fact, confirm that this is what he means by wooing.

He steps a little closer, drawn by her scent, by her kindness and her strength - and lifts a hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ears. ]

I should go check on the tea.

[ His nose notes how close the water is to a boil, but she's very close and he finds he likes searching her gaze. His wolf is never far beneath the surface, but neither he nor his other half wish to scare her. ]

[He draws in nearer to her, and Eun finds herself caught between looking at the flower he's gifted her, and gazing into his eyes.

He's told her more than anyone else in Aspen Creek that he is dangerous and unstable. That he is to be feared, and that others walk lightly around him. He is a dominant werewolf, dominant to her, and she should not look him directly in the eyes. And yet, she cannot seem to help herself, and there is no instinct from her wolf to prevent her from doing so. It takes conscious effort to look away, as she has to remind herself to be careful. To not aggravate his wolf. But it is Asil who seems to catch her gaze on purpose.

He is difficult to resist, though she stays still for him, head tilting slightly as he brushes her hair back--his fingertip brushing past the shell of her ear.]

I could come with you.

[She hasn't yet reached out to touch him in return, not since she first offered her hand to him in the kitchen. Some part of her knows that if she does what is instinctive, like bring her hands to his sides or his chest, things would escalate at once. It's difficult to be disciplined but she is managing, only by the skin of her teeth.]

I should keep an eye on our breakfast, to make sure the scones don't bake too long. And...should this rose go into water?

[Despite all this that she says, Eun makes no move to slide out from between him and the roses, away from the touch of his hand at her back.]

[ He could kiss her now, here, surrounded by his blooms. She is so close that he catches he scent of her interest - and her care. He could pull her towards him and test whether his imaginings are correct and that they would fit each other nicely.

But he promised her to be on his best behavior. And his wolf likes this chase, this slow dance of testing interest and coaxing confirmation.

So, a compromise: he leans in just so, his cheek brushing hers as he murmurs lovingly into her ear. ]

I'll get you a vase that you can bring home with you.

[ A gentle squeeze on her hip then. He doesn't not flee from her presence, does not wish to give her the impression of disinterest or dismissal. It is, if one were to break down the message of his body to hers: follow after I go, enjoy my flowers for a minute or more, and then join me inside.

Her wolf, he is sure, will understand. Perhaps it is overconfidence - but if he is to keep his promise to her and not cage her in his arms he needs a little breather to gather his wits. ]

[Even as she knows it would be best if they drink their tea at least, and have a scone before they cross that line with each other, Eun cannot help but wish that he would kiss her.

They are so near to the same height, a first for Eun, that it puts his mouth so much closer to hers when they stand next to each other. He doesn't have far to lean to reach her mouth--or as it happens, her ear. Eun feels his cheek against hers, a familiar texture of a freshly shaven cheek at that, but more importantly, his breath rustling her hair. His voice is low and smooth, and Eun's wolf grows restless, urging her to press back. To take action to tease back. It can play the pray for the joy of the chase, an old dance of back and forth that it knows well even if Eun does not yet.

She understands the man, however, and the shiver that runs up her spine before she can suppress it. Her cheeks flush with warmth as his hand squeezes her hip--and as Asil wonders how her mouth would feel against his, Eun feels like she's been given a hint of what it will feel like when he finally holds her body against his.

He isn't the only one who needs a breather, once he finally slips away from her, leaving her among his roses. It's a miracle she hasn't clenched his rose tightly and broken the stem. Eun closes her eyes, exhaling with no grace at all. The warmth of this greenhouse is dangerous, and the temptation they pose to one another even more so. Leaning carefully against the edge of his planters, Eun takes several slow breaths to settle herself, but the scent of his own interest is insistent, and she can only wait so long before taking herself into the relative coolness of the kitchen.

But he is there and she...she still needs a moment.

No doubt she looks flustered, much as she had the night before, and Eun flashes him a quick, tight smile as she reluctantly, but gently places the flower on the counter. He's standing there, poised somehow, and preparing their tea, and it is still too soon to be near him again after what just happened. Necessity overwhelms pride as she eases away. The look she gives him is direct, intent. Her words exaggerated to make it clear that she is not running, but...]

I will be right back.

[Eun finds her way to the front door of the cabin and without pausing to put her boots back on or her coat, steps out into the cold morning air. He overwhelms her like no one has before. She's not used to someone being able to affect her like that, like she's been playing kiddie softball for years and has suddenly stepped up into major league baseball. If she did not want him as badly as she does, she could probably hold her own better, but Eun does not want that as much as she wants to feel this.

So for a long moment, she lets the cold air cool her down and center her. She breathes deep the fresh air, not surrounded by the scent of him and his interest as she finds her balance once more.]

[ He feels the... push in her voice when she tells him that she evidently needs a little more than his suggestion of a minute. And he'd held her gaze before she whirled around to head outside. Asil is not sure if he's relieved that she doesn't see how he rubs his hand worriedly over his mouth, unsettled and flustered smack in the middle of his own kitchen because he felt the urging of his wolf to follow her now.

But no. He is in control.

He did not fuss overmuch over their tea. If anything, what he feels right now is a little bit like feeling drunk - drunk on the scent of her skin against his. Of whatever perfume he'd inhaled when he'd pressed close.

He does not miss that she'd left her coat and her boots. And while she is likely taking in the chill Montana air, he inhales deeply, exerting his will over his wolf. He has no patience for it's impatience. She has not left them and neither is she prey for them to want to give chase.

By all things holy and not - he will give her the space she asked for.

When you return, Eun, you'll find him leaning against the frame of those french doors. His arms are crossed idly, his head tilted as if listening to music only he can hear. He'll look deceptively relaxed, like a loyal dog aiting patiently (but not hurriedly) for your return.

He promised, querida. He may be old and wrestling with the madness that comes with walking the earth for far longer than expected - but he keeps his promises.

On the island top, you'll catch sight of a service tray carved from redwood. He finished preparing your tea (with honey, as requested). The saucers cover both china cups, trapping the heat. ]

[The cold of the air does wonders for her ability to think. The first thought being that they will not be able to behave themselves and get to know each other the way they'd both agreed to do if this continues. Eun half wonders if they ought to simply give in, if nothing else than to relieve the pressure and tension between them. Perhaps it is stronger, perhaps it is harder to resist because they fight so much against it for good reason.

She also thinks that if this is how he is when they are just starting, when he is attempting to behave himself, then she is almost certainly doomed when he decides to exert true and concentrated effort in seducing her. The rose had been wooing, but Eun knows very well that his lips by her ear and the squeeze of her hip had been seduction.

It had given her an all too vivid thought of other times he might grasp her hip like that in the future.

It feels like ages that she spends out on his porch, letting the cold air cool her from her limbs to her core, but no more than five minutes pass before she is letting herself back into Asil's cabin and making her way back to the kitchen. Her eyes find him at once by the entrance to his greenhouse, and she offers him an easier, more relaxed smile. Her hand lifts, and she tucks her hair behind her other ear as she comes to stand near both Asil and the tea service.]

Sorry to keep you waiting.

[Points to her, her voice actually sounds steady when she speaks. Her wolf feels restless inside her still, but does not seek to overwhelm the decision she's made to not revisit their last interaction among the roses, or escalate things. She glances at the timer on the oven, and makes her way there to turn the light on and check on the scones. Assured that they are coming along nicely, she turns back to Asil, and directs her gaze to their tea. Slowly, with ease in her movements, she pulls out a stool and sits. Offers him a smile.]

I love your kitchen, by the way. Everything I've seen of your cabin, really. I should have said it earlier when I came in but I was so focused on getting breakfast underway it slipped my mind.

[ He thinks - at least for the next minute or so - that he will stay right where he is. Perhaps she should have put on her coat. The bare flesh of her throat and a hint of shoulder is wearing at his control.

He waves a hand in a gesture that tells her no apology is required, careful to keep his posture relaxed.

She is close enough for us to touch, whisper his wolf. He isn't quite sure however, that it's just his wolf that feels a touch of disappointment when she sits down.

He manages a smile. It feels good enough to convince himself that he's behaving. ]

Everything is new. At least six months old. [ He mentioned renovations to her. This, apparently, is the end result. ] My hothouse used to be detached from the house. But Kara gets restless weeks before her parents arrive for their visits, and Bran ordered me to find a new hobby and to teach her some life skills.

[ Eun looks like she belongs in his kitchen. By the smell of her scones, his oven appears to agree. ]

The small guest room at the far end is hers. But her mother is thinking of relocating, so there will be no need for it once they decide.

[Sitting down means no restless shifting, no trying to figure out what to do with her hands or her feet and deciding that her feet would be best carrying her to him, and her hands pressing to his midsection like she'd wanted to in the greenhouse.

Asil does not sit across from her, or next to her, but stays where he is. She wonders if he is still having as hard a time with this as she is. At least here where their tea steeps and her scones bake, the scent of their mutual desire for one another is somewhat obscured. It makes it easier for her to breathe and think and interact with him at this short distance.]

I'm sure she that Kara would still appreciate knowing she has a place here if she needs it. If you have no other use for it, in any case.

[Eun's gaze slips to the doors and the greenhouse beyond.]

I admit I'm envious of your attached hothouse. I think between this kitchen and your roses I'd have a hard time deciding where I wanted to eat my breakfast every morning, if my cabin were like yours. Is Kara proud of the work she's done?

[And does he know that Eun is imagining him striding over to her and kissing her against the kitchen counter?]

[ He wants to do more than just kiss her against the kitchen counter and it's getting very difficult to ignore that she's not missed the tension between them.

This talk concerning his princesita should settle him. But when Eun confesses that she can picture herself in his garden and in his kitchen - his control is shot. ]

Prouder that she played foreman the entire time. [ He says it teasingly, because the little wolf had surprised him by being enterprising. With the exception of gardening, he does not often adhere to routines, often losing interest with a task if it does not hold his attention well.

He belatedly realizes that he's crossed to Eun. That he's leaned in to reach for the tray as an excuse to cage her against the counter.

When he sets the saucer aside he withdraws - but not enough that he's not looking right at her with hands resting on the edge of the table. ] I am afraid I am very bad at keeping promises today.

[ He does not kiss her outright. Instead, he brushes his lips to hers, teasing. ]

[She doesn't even realize what she's done once she's done it. Eun is settling, charmed by talk of Kara doing work in Asil's home, and playing foreman to the older wolf in his own home. Her smile comes easier, spreads wider with a flash of white teeth, showing her own amusement.

She follows his movements as he draws closer, and does not realize until he has trapped her against the counter that they have both been hiding their thoughts a little too well. Heartbeat quickening, she inhales softly, and with it takes in the scent of his desire, the taste of it in the air. His movements are deliberate, and the wolf inside her rises to meet the challenge of being caged at her seat. Delicately, she lays a hand upon one of his forearms, not pushing him away but adding a point of contact.

She could push him away, she could tell him no, she could do a thousand things other than sit there. But Eun holds still as Asil closes the distance between them, eyes closing at the first contact of his lips against hers.]

Good.

[The word is murmured against him as she presses her lips more firmly to his, sighing at the first kiss she's enjoyed in a year. Heat flares inside her, and the wolf rises still, ready to engage in whatever comes next. Her hand squeezes his arm, and her other hand finally rises, laying against his chest and curling into the fabric of his shirt.

He's already crossed the line, and in that moment there are no amount of good intentions and reminders of what would be best for them both to keep her from him now. Eun surrenders to her earlier thought. They may be better off, and happier besides, to simply stop trying to resist one another.]

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