The word rings through Eridanus' mind like a chorus of chamber bells, and he can feel his heart rate quicken with the giddiness of an inexperienced teenager. The corners of his lips quirk up into an awkward little smile, and a shy laugh warfs from his lungs.]
You flatter me— [His playful words are cut short as Lucius stalks into his personal space, and while it wasn't unwelcome by any means, Eridanus found himself suddenly feeling much too small. Those slitting golden eyes watch him with the hunger of a beast ready to pounce, and once more his skin sings with the instinct to flee.
Just as every time before, he stays right where he's sat. Eridanus lifts his hands, cupping Lucius' face as those adoring eyes fall half-lidded.]
Hmm... let me see. Slaughter wantonly, and bathe myself bloody in the streets? I'm sure that sight would amuse you. Or perhaps... besting you in that duel? How satisfying for the both of us for your first scar against this handsome face to be made by my victory? [Slender obsidian-sharp points trace the lines of Lucius' face as he speaks, and there's a softness to his expression that is stark against his drunkenness.]
Or perhaps a gift? A head still wet at the stump... though I can imagine you would also like a new chassis of armor?
no subject
The word rings through Eridanus' mind like a chorus of chamber bells, and he can feel his heart rate quicken with the giddiness of an inexperienced teenager. The corners of his lips quirk up into an awkward little smile, and a shy laugh warfs from his lungs.]
You flatter me— [His playful words are cut short as Lucius stalks into his personal space, and while it wasn't unwelcome by any means, Eridanus found himself suddenly feeling much too small. Those slitting golden eyes watch him with the hunger of a beast ready to pounce, and once more his skin sings with the instinct to flee.
Just as every time before, he stays right where he's sat. Eridanus lifts his hands, cupping Lucius' face as those adoring eyes fall half-lidded.]
Hmm... let me see. Slaughter wantonly, and bathe myself bloody in the streets? I'm sure that sight would amuse you. Or perhaps... besting you in that duel? How satisfying for the both of us for your first scar against this handsome face to be made by my victory? [Slender obsidian-sharp points trace the lines of Lucius' face as he speaks, and there's a softness to his expression that is stark against his drunkenness.]
Or perhaps a gift? A head still wet at the stump... though I can imagine you would also like a new chassis of armor?