Doubting [Rafaelle]

[Centari]

The Ethaefal ignored his roving gaze. She didn't care, so long as he didn't react too drastically to their presence. While she didn't know he was thinking she was a succubus, she herself had no knowledge of that particular demon. She'd not heard of them on her travels, and while she could be considered one of the succubi, she was not one. She belonged to a divine realm, not a hellish circle.

She smiled at this man pleasantly instead, holding his hand as though they were much, much more than newly acquaintanced. She was odd like that, however. It was her nature to force her will on the unsuspecting and the attractive, and this man was both. She couldn't resist wanting to make sure anyone who saw them knew he was hers. It was like a pissing contest. Almost.

"What a charming grin you have, Rafaelle," she flirted as she saw that smirk, that cheeky expression, cross his lips. And it was charming. It suited him wonderfully. It made him even more attractive, and it made her want him. It was a good thing they were going to those Gardens, for they were sure to be enshrouded in the privacy afforded visitors there. No matter what she to him, with him, or for him, they were certain to not be bothered by the curious and bold. She liked her privacy anyway, especially in such intimate matters alike to the ones she was considering with this man. She couldn't get ahead of herself, however. She was not assured Rafaelle's affections at just because he acquiesced to follow. She needed proof of his willingness, his desire, to be hers, or she might as well as just end this game and pour something unpleasant down his throat.

Unlike most people, Centari rarely took offense to anything, but if she did, she made sure the one to offend her was adequately punished for that snub. She would hate to have to do that to Rafaelle, however, but there was always giving him his seven minutes in heaven followed by an hour through hell. If seven minutes was an adequate amount of time to feel satisfied, that is.

"You are such a kind man, m'lord." A smile stung the corners of her lips. "I am pleased you accept my invitation, and I'd be glad to share with you whatever you wish for whatever you'd care to offer." A light laugh followed her words. She felt like a fool speaking like this, like some human's brat pretending to be some form of courtesan. It all went with the game, and she didn't allow the mockery of courtly appearances to fall. She wanted to flatter this man, this charming and attractive piece of work.

"What would you like to know first, Rafaelle?" She smirked slightly as she led him down the street, hand in hand. Ohhhhhh this could be fun, she thought.

[Rafaelle]

His mind raced, aided by their fleeting pace that carried them away from the lone forked road.They were on the move to these mysterious gardens he had not yet had the pleasure of laying his eye upon.

He had heard of women luring unsuspecting soldiers and men from other walks of life into traps with an array of possibilities. Some held a wooden log folded in cloth as though it was a sick child. Others preferred to seduce. They often worked with other people who could provide 'muscle' and or other executive power to ensure the victims do not escape or even manage to scream for help.

These thoughts crossed Rafaelle's mind in a blink of an eye. Yet she was so unlike those people. Centari did not act too slutty nor needy. She was simply... friendly. Perhaps a bit overly so considering they had just met... but nothing threatening so far. Everything Rafaelle feared were his own assumptions, his own experience and knowledge of similar situations. The Ephemeral gave him absolutely no reason to worry yet if perhaps not for her strange horns. Those were always associated with infernal or strange mythical creatures. She was no human for sure. Her beauty rivaled the few truly beautiful women of his own kind, if not surpassed even.

Rafaelle could no longer hold his curiosity. "How did you manage to find me in all of this crowd, Centari? I ah, usually try to keep a low profile, you see! I am quite a private man, after all." The rogue lied many times. But this was not a lie, exactly. As a fledgling wizard and a thief with a mental condition, his ways did not accommodate for friendship nor anything deeper. At most, he could call his past acquaintances "partners" whenever he required to work with others of similar trade.

Her warm and pleasant touch, soft as petals of a rose, made his thoughts stray elsewhere. For the first time, having sorted through the possible negative outcomes he saw in her something that spurred his lust and desire. The spark in her eye, the way she moved and talked. Her way of conversing him might have been but a formality but it was still strangely flattering... and promising. Briefly after he discovered himself fantasizing about her lustrous lips adhered to his, and it evoked a vague blush to add a faint colour to his otherwise pallid cheeks. Even though she was a stranger, and a mysterious one at that, Rafaelle was quite adamant he was far from the only male who indulged in thinking about getting intimate with any women that he found attractive. Even if they were out of his reach.

Still, the perceptive rogue could not help but flick his eyes momentarily at every shadowy nook and corner of the city which they passed, anticipating a possible ambush. And the people. Most were indifferent, going about their own business. Some stopped to give the pair a strange look. Young couples were not that rare, but a horned woman guiding a young lad by the hand? He showed not a shadow of suspicion, however, or tried to hide it, at least. And if she was to pass a glance over her shoulder at him, he would pretend to be fascinated with the buildings or the people they passed, always letting her know she was still more interesting than any of that by devoting his attention to her instead... did she even know where to go? Strangely, sometimes the city simply led to places where one wished to go. Perhaps luck would smile upon them this time.

[Centari]

She remained calm, thoughtful as they walked. Part of her mind was considering the best way to go about finding the Gardens, while the majority was completely on this man in her grasp. She liked listening to him speak. He had such a flow with his words that she would feel pleased to just listen to him speak. Too bad she didn't want to listen. She wanted something more tangible than words. She wanted the figurative chocolate. Sadly, Centari knew she'd have to work for it, but after the chase she'd have much more fun than if he succumbed willingly and readily at the first available moment.

She didn't know about his doubtful thoughts, but if she did she would have found them intriguing. She turned her eyes to the countenance of her companion, her bright orange eyes tracing his profile as they walked. She didn't care about what others thought. Centari had the unnerving habit of focusing her self entirely on the subject of her attention. Nothing could catch her attention when she was focused.

"Actually, it was quite easy, my love," she said in her softest voice, the endearment not meant to sound too possessive nor suggestive. "You were the only person in my immediate vicinity who did not stare at me. I find you interesting. Even now you don't prattle on about my face or race. I like it. You're one of a kind. I respect your privacy, though." She smiled again, her lids heavy over her orange eyes. She didn't wish to scare Rafaelle away. He was quickly earning himself a gilded place mat in her life. She'd hate to have to kill him because he went against her wishes and left.

"You are so charming when you blush, Rafaelle. What were you thinking of?" She looked away briefly to get their bearings and gripped his hand as she suddenly halted. With a playful tug on his hand she turned them around and they walked back the way they had come. Now, she strove to keep his eyes on her because she felt that the illusion she desired would not come if he was watching their surroundings.

With his attention, they stepped into the verdant garden, the scents immediately washing over them in a tidal wave of pleasant odors. Centari felt a thrill of excitement as she looked around and gestured to the Garden grandly. "Look! We are here! Ionu's Bouquet!" She exclaimed happily.

[Rafaelle]

Inevitably, the rogue's stare kept straying to her slender figure and whenever their gazes met he did not shy away and flashed a cheekily smile instead, albeit there was a faintly perceptible red tint upon his gaunt cheeks. Her eyes were captivating, no doubt, having that unfamiliar tint ascribable to anything but completely human. And that alien nature is what strangely allured him, something completely out of the ordinary. Just like her straightforward yet soft approach.

Still, there was a sixth sense, some unmistakable sense that could not be identified with mere words for it was even beyond feelings. As though he could tell, by some uncanny odds that she wanted far more than this and that all this talk was somehow but a formality. The process of getting to know him was perhaps not as important to her as the result to which she . The fledgling mage himself, however, could not help himself but pick out something to enjoy in every moment of this pleasant(so far) adventure. The whole string of events that was to unfold confounded him, and with such a feminine beauty amidst it all, it was no longer a question of whether it was a trap or not but rather whether he had what it took to get out of it or how he would benefit if this was not a trap after all. It was a challenge, another test of wit and courage... or foolishness.

Either way, looks like he qualified for all of the above.

Rafaelle found himself lost in his thoughts that were mirrored in those eyes of passionate fire as she subtly demanded his attention. He could barely make out her words for the sole reason of being attracted to the way her plush lips moved when she talked. But he caught enough to understand her question.

"I was simply amused by the fact how nobody on these streets could possibly match your... aesthetic appeal, Lady Centari." The rogue answered. Again, it was not a lie in the slightest but at the same time he was trying to justify his suspicious glances towards the bypassers.

His nostrils were suddenly filled with the fresh scent of flowers. Having lost his attention towards the outside for what seemed but mere seconds, the whole setting around them had changed as they crossed the threshold of the clandestine gardens.

"Oh, we are here..." Mumbled Rafaelle, letting his eyes roam about the vibrant colours that painted before him as though a painter had splashed it all over the canvas. The rogue squinted, gradually trying to adapt to something as refreshing.