Gods, Tallulah was exhausted. Not to mention angry, hungry, and very, very annoyed. Yet there was a silver lining - she had won. She had won, and now he, Mr. High-and-Mighty owed her. It was enough to keep her head held high - for a while, at least.

Tallulah glided along the streets of Vienda, her white skirts brushing gently against the cobble stones, shoes making a resonant click-clack as she walked. She had worn one of her finest dresses to bail the stupid wick out of prison - and that was not all, oh no, she had paid each officer a large sum on top of the bail price to make sure they all kept their mouths shut and noses out of her business. Of course in the bribing she had been nothing but kind and subtle, her charm and wit flowing easily and charismatically as it ever did. She had put on a very nice performance, and for what? For this wick? No. For her painting.

The wick in question was walking along beside her, a little worse for wear. The boils which had been cast on him had not completely healed, and it looked as if he'd gotten into a scrape or two once in his cell, as well. Tallulah smiled to herself - it served him right. Of course, the boils were going to have to be healed if she ever wanted to finish her sketch, but that would come in due course. In the meantime, Tallulah let herself be as smug as possible. It was rather fun, holding this over her head.

They must have made quite a pair, walking along like they were. He in his grimy, weakened state, and her, in a flowing dress the color of new-fallen snow. This also made her lips curl in satisfaction. She was better. She had won this round. He was in her debt, and they both knew it, her probably more so than him.

She was leading him to her house - she would heal him, and then demand that he stayed, on pain of the wrath of the seventen. She really hated when her still-life's weren't still. There would be fine lighting, too; the day was overcast, and it made for a pleasant glow about everything. Goodness, he looked horrible. She snickered quietly, and, after gaining control of herself, she glanced at him side-long. "You realize how much you owe me, do you not? In fact, I think I just spent more money than you've ever seen, Artemis." Her smile was like blades of ice, cool and calculating and sharp. Oh, this was just too much fun.

"You attempt to goad me, Miss Anatine, and your methods are elementary at best. I’ll tell you right now, it isn't going to work. You and I both know that I owe you nothing. If anything, you were merely paying your rather extensive debt to me." He allowed a smirk to play on his lips despite the rather foul time he’d been having the past few days.

Oh, he’d had plenty of time to reflect on mistakes he’d made to land him there in the first place. He’d also had plenty of time to get used to the one silver lining of the entire situation in that he would never have to see Tallulah again. And then, as was her wont, she killed that hope by coming to bail him out. And he had been more than a little surprised by it- he had expected her to simply move on with her life and find some other poor soul to harass. But it seemed she had a special place in her icy heart for him. How lovely.

Oh, well. At least he was out. At least he had but a few moments left to suffer her company. A few short moments of holding still so she could finish her silly scribblings of him and then he could move on with his life as a free man and… and things would go back to the same old routine. Not to say things weren’t exciting. Really, what was more exciting than fighting for one’s life, as pointless as it was? No, it was just… tiresome. A cycle that would only end when his luck ran out and his life was at an end.

Did that mean that, in some sick sort of way, he actually enjoyed her company? Preposterous. She could certainly be entertaining, at times. Amusing, in her ramblings. Even surprising, on the odd occasion she actually had something intelligent or witty to say. She was merely an intrigue who had entered his life on a whim and would leave the same way. And good riddance. She was a golly. And a nuisance. She’d brought nothing but trouble to his life and he would be glad to be rid of her. He met her gaze evenly, easily disguising any hint of his internal monologue as he attempted to convince himself of this simple fact.

"Debt? Don't make me laugh. No one forced you to help me in the bar, and there was no invisible force ushering you to my aid in the market place. As for the bar? Your own impertinence and refusal to stoop to apologize to someone you hate got you put in that little cell." She grinned a bit, her glare never faltering. Gods, she was so damn tired. Yet still she kept his ice-cold stare. "And now, you are stuck with me." She turned her head away from him, as if to say, "I am done with this," and quickened her pace. She wanted to get home, heal him, draw him, and then fall in to her soft, glorious bed and sleep until she could sleep no more.

It was an anomaly, really. She had unfinished paintings at home, many of them, yet her already abnormal sleeping patterns had not been altered by any of them. Maybe it was the thought of an eyeless man that was haunting her - maybe it was the thrill of a challenge, something almost forgotten in the small life she lead. But maybe it was something more . . . Guilt? No, she had been over that last night. She did not feel anything for him except annoyance. And not even that - he didn't matter. Did he?

He was a challenge, that was for sure, but other than that, what weight did his presence carry in her life? It was all so frustrating! She was a golly. He was a wick. They meant nothing to each other - absolutely nothing. Or at least, that was what she was telling herself. 'Clock it all ,' she thought, angrily. They - they? Not they, she - she was only a few blocks from her home. Only a few blocks from her bed. Gods and goddesses, Tallulah needed to sleep.

"Nobody forced me to help you, Miss Anatine, this is true, but I never asked you for help, either. It was your own choice to come bail me out- your choice to spend so much money on my release just so that you could finish your little drawing of me. Your reasons were entirely selfish, unlike mine. I owe you nothing." Perhaps an apology. But no, not even that. Not as far as he was concerned- she had turned on him, first. She had asked for every insult he had thrown at her. If her reputation had been damaged- and he hoped it had been- it was her own damn fault for so adamantly suffering him her company in the first place.

He flexed his shoulders slightly, tilted his head left and right to stretch the sore muscles. He was used to moving around so much more than he had the past few days. Holding still for too long caused his muscles to cramp up. “And I hardly need you pointing out my mistakes. I’ve had days to reflect on them and am far better off without your help in that particular area. But honestly, had you not insisted upon ruining a would-be quiet, perhaps even enjoyable night, your lovely friends would not have bothered to join you in making my life more difficult than it has to be- honestly, I do a good enough job of that on my own.” He smirked dryly. His intent was to throw her off, or at least keep her from any witty rejoinder she might endeavor to utter. Might as well kill any sort of pleasure she had hoped to gain out of this evening, and in doing so offer some enjoyment from himself, assuming such was even possible to obtain in the presence of such an irritating woman.

(( Urrgh, post fail. Sorries, will do better next time. ))

She sighed. He really was quite thick. Proud, as well. He had a never ending supply of confidence, but it was just as well; once she broke him, he'd be no fun. She liked it when her prey kicked - it gave her much more time to enjoy herself. "And why shouldn't my reasons be selfish? Why should I care for you? All I want is a sketch, and then we will, hopefully, never encounter each other again." Why did she even bother explaining herself to him? She had nothing to prove, especially not to him. He was nothing to her except for a few scratches of charcoal and a waste of paper.

But still, it seemed that the longer his picture was unfinished, the longer she had to wait for sleep, and this annoyed her more than anything. She didn't have to defend her reasons to him. He was an uneducated brute, with nothing to his name save pity, bitterness, and death. This realization caused her lips to curl into a smile that could freeze the sun, and her eyes to look at him with all the kindness of a hungry black widow eying her next meal.

"I have no obligation to you. I don't need to give you reasons, Artemis. You forget the rift between us: you are a mere man, a wick, a person no one would miss. You assume I enjoy your presence - this is a misconception on your part. I enjoy the challenge. Somewhere, somehow, you've gotten it into your head that you're on par with someone such as myself." They were closing in on her street, and she could just make out the purple poppies that bloomed from her windowsill. "I am educated, I have a home, and I can spin spells that would leave a poor thing like you reeling. If things like this mean so little to you, I'd like to see you heal your own wounds - that is, of course, once you get the funds to bail yourself out of jail."

They were at the wooden door of her modest house. Modest by golly standards, at least. It was a pale yellow in color, beautiful reddish brown cross-beams showing through the plaster. A few windows shown through on both floors, wooden trim cutting the panes into little diamonds. Poppies of varying purplish colors hung from baskets from the window ledges, adding a sort of cheerfulness to the already sunny appearance of her home. The traffic of carriages in this area was extremely low, and that of pedestrians was even less, and though Tallulah doubted anyone would mistake them as friends of any sort, it was nice to feel she had a bit of privacy, even when out in the open.

"Enough of talk, if you wouldn't mind. The faster this is done, the faster you can leave." 'And the faster I can sleep,' she finished in her head as she opened the door of her home. With a graceful step she walked inside and stood, waiting for him to follow.

"Who said I assume you enjoy my presence? I should hope you loathe it as much as I do yours- that should mean we can move on with our lives after this little rendezvous is at an end. Still, Miss Anatine, I can’t help but wonder, now that you were so kind as to bring it up, if you do have some convoluted sense of enjoyment in my company." He grinned wolfishly, knowing this would rattle her cage, “Perhaps it is the allure of the risks one of your status would be taking in such a scandalous affair with a lowly half-breed such as myself. Or, perhaps, you enjoy the thrill of the challenge a bit more than what is entirely warranted. Or maybe- just maybe- you find something in my manner attractive.”

His lips curled up into a smirk, “If this is the case, Miss Anatine, I should ask that you to please get any such frivolous notions out of your brain, as I could never share them. At any rate, your reasons for bailing me out are feeble at best, and they could lead someone to suspect there might just be something more to our little meetings.” As if he would ever stoop to such lows- and with a golly! Please.

With that, he crossed the threshold into her home, glancing around, taking note of everything he saw. He noted that the house was far warmer in its decor than he could have assumed from this woman. It seemed… ironic, in an odd sort of way. Certainly contradictory. And the house was big. Not for golly standards, of course, but it was still massive for one such as Artemis. It was hardly what he would call practical. “Mmm, how much space does one woman need?” He shook his head, “I suppose that doesn’t matter- you’re a golly, after all. You need no reason to be impractical, it simply runs in your blood. Let us get this over with so I can get away from you as soon as possible.”

She was just removing her gloves and taking down her hair from the tight bun it had been in, when Lily, her albino bander wolf came bounding down the stairs. The dog was louder than a drunken human, and more enthusiastic than a Piikii as she came running towards them, her speed almost frightening. Tallulah braced herself - and felt nothing. She had expected Lily to jump on her, but instead the little fluff ball was busy giving Artemis a hearty "Hello." Huh. Turns out dogs had worse taste than Tallulah had previously assumed.

"Down, Lilly! You don't know where that's been!" She was secretly thankful of the dog's interruption. She had barely enough energy to function properly, much less maintain witty banter throughout the afternoon. Lilly was still licking at the man, so Tallulah grabbed her by the collar and pulled. The white beast came away from Artemis reluctantly, her tongue lolling from her open mouth. "Don't lick that! It's a nasty wick - we don't lick those." Tallulah smiled at the animal. Lily really was quite adorable, what, with her constant cheeriness and over-eager welcomes. Lily was the closest thing to a friend Tallulah had ever had.

Tallulah set about getting things ready for her picture - she moved a chair from her table to the middle of the large room that served as her first floor to a clear area in front of two floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out upon her small garden. She also slipped her shoes from her feet, and lay them next to the door. This made her a substantial amount shorter - at least three inches - but it made no difference to Tallulah. This was her domain.

Having the foresight to bring her charcoals and paper down earlier, Tallulah had no need to leave the little escape artist unattended - no, she would be watching him squirm the entire time, and he'd just have to deal with it. After all this was finished, she went to a cabinet on the rooms east end, and took from the cabinets a bag of dried pork skins. She had to stand on her toes to reach the shelf where she kept Lily's treats. Once she got the bag she was seeking, she whistled at the dog, who had been staring up at Artemis the entire time. She held out the tidbit and watched as the dog sat dutifully. Tallulah tossed the morsel to Lily, smiling adoringly at her pet as the cute little thing wolfed the scrap down as fast as she could.

"Artemis, if you'd please take a seat, I'll heal you in a moment."

Artemis was still smirking when all of a sudden a big ball of fur slammed into him, winding him a bit in the process. Oh, he had seen the dog coming- he had merely expected it to go to its owner. Huh. Despite his cold disposition toward Tallulah, offered the dog an uncertain sort of smile. So she was a dog person- he wouldn't have guessed. While he was more of a cat person, and- more than that- a bird person, Artemis didn't so much mind dogs, when they could keep themselves from barking too much.

Kneeling slightly, he rubbed the dog's ears, smiling the entire time- until he remembered Tallulah. When she spoke, he straightened himself with a slight smirk, "Her taste appears to be as bad as yours. Such a pity, really."



Well, at least he was getting something out of this ordeal. He quite preferred being attractive. It made it easier to deal with women like Tallulah- show them what they couldn't have because they weren't good enough. It gave him an edge. "Certainly," he said icily, sitting as commanded, "Honestly, though, I would not have taken you for the sort who would like dogs. Or any animal, for that matter. Looks like the winter thorn has some warmth in her, after all."

Tallulah's eyes flashed. She was not warm - anything but. From anyone else, she would've taken this as a complement, but from him? No. There was something strange about it, something she couldn't place. She smiled sweetly at Artemis, making sure every ounce of "warmth" she could've possessed was poured into the thing. Her face, at the end of the effort, was positively angelic. "Be careful what you say, wick. One word, and Lily will eat your testicles for lunch." The smile became icy and turned into a threatening sort of implication of what Tallulah could do, and not feel bad about.

She took a chair from the same table his had been at and dragged it so the back was facing him. She straddled it in a very unladylike manner and rested her chin against the back. If she was going to heal him, she might has well have been comfortable.

She then closed her eyes, and concentrated. Tallulah had quite a lot of practice in healing people. She had been one to pick fights in school, and more often than not she was forced to fix what she had broken. She had also healed herself more than a few times, and was pretty used to the procedure. The memories of her younger days brought a soft smile to her lips, but she swiftly pushed everything away, clearing her mind of everything but her objective - getting those damned boils off of his damn face so she could get on with his damn portrait, and she could sleep in her damn bed.

When she was ready, she cast Heal, her lips moving delicately over the poetry of the strange and wonderful language, her every cell tingling with the power of her work.

As the mona began to respond, Artemis could feel the cells in his face beginning to respond. First it was an odd sensation, then a sharp stinging as the fibers began fighting the infectious boils.

After four days without healing, his skin had already done part of the work, while the rest knit smoothly together. He was left with discolored rings of scar tissue surrounding the freshly rejuvenated red skin where boils once had been.

Lu was feeling oddly dizzy. She looked at Artemis - he had a few red rings splotched on his face, but nothing that wouldn't fade with time. He was still (as much as she hated to admit it) handsome, that had certainly not changed. When she spoke, her voice was odd as well. Huh. "The redness will die down in a day. The rings . . . they will fade in time." She made no effort to move - for some reason, she was feeling sick.

"Oh, yes, vicious thing she is," Artemis said, raising a brow, "It's more likely she would lick me to death, if her greeting was anything to go off." He smirked, then Tallulah was sitting in front of him in a rather unladylike fashion and he was again reminded of how very atypical this woman was- especially for a highborn golly.

Then she was casting and he winced very slightly at the sting of flesh healing at an accelerated rate, and was about to say something when Tallulah spoke again.



"Did you... scar me, Miss Anatine?" His voice was an odd sounding mix of intense vexation and mild puzzlement. He wasn't sure whether to be more irritated at the scars he felt as he raised his hands to the faint lines of subtly raised skin on his face, or amused with the fact that this high and mighty golly had failed in something that was supposed to be her craft, and right in front of him. Shame her failure couldn't have been on something else, though. He frowned as he felt the raised skin. Of course blemishes one felt on one's own skin always felt worse than it looked, or this was what he tried to convince himself as he thought of different ways he could tease the woman for her slapdash spellwork.

Just as he was about to say something appropriately witty, however, he noticed Tallulah's odd demeanor. "... Miss Anatine?" She looked... sick. Pale- more pale than what was normal even for an albino- and a bit feeble. Shaky. Like she might throw up. "You look terrible," He smirked, then added, "If you're going to be ill, I would kindly request that you not do so on me." Still, a vey very very small part of him felt... concern for her state. She had mentioned sleepless nights... maybe that had something to do with it? Ah, but why should he care about her well being? Maybe if she was sick enough he could leave and be done with her...

As weak as she was feeling, she still managed to be annoyed with him. He was so self absorbed, and just . . . just . . . The bastard. He had felt his face, and she knew he could feel the slight scarring that had formed. For some reason, the need to laugh at his vanity wasn't there. She actually felt bad. Hah. Who was she kidding? She didn't feel bad. That was ridiculous. But still . . . Oh, clock it. She had the undeniable urge to prove him wrong, so she stood. The room was still a blur, but she couldn't let him see how incredibly feeble she actually was, so she began to walk. "Artemis, you should know about being si -"

She stopped mid-sentence. The world was spinning around her. Her living room furniture looked odd and distant, and there were spots in her vision - little points of light penetrating everything and making her head hurt. Her legs and arms were tingling, and the ground was getting nearer, though she wasn't sure why. Oddly enough, the floor seemed to be twirling, too. 'Well, isn't this dandy,' she thought, trying to make her hands move so she could catch herself. It was no use. Tallulah's mind slowly slipped into darkness.

"About being what?" He coaxed, realizing she was either about to throw up or.. something. Oh, gods, it looked like she was about to faint. Then he realized she was about to faint and stood instinctively, not entirely sure why he was standing until he threw his arms out to catch her, arms moving on reflex. Or he hoped it was reflex. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded watching her crash to the floor, hopefully smashing her face in in the process. Then why did he catch her?

He shook his head. Best not fret over it for now. He had an unconscious and- though he would never admit it- very beautiful woman lying in his arms, body sagging like a sack of bricks against his frame, only slightly more graceful. How could a woman so much smaller than him weigh so much? Dead weight was always such a puzzling thing. Lifting her into a position in which it might be easier to carry her- cradled in his arms like a large child- and carried her over to the couch. Honestly, why do I bother with this woman? I could simply leave her on the floor to awaken with a massive headache. The floor would be uncomfortable, though. But wouldn't it serve her right? She did help me. And I didn't even ask. But she'd also owed him.

He stood, grumbling to himself as he made to leave. But then, simply leaving suddenly didn't feel right. But since when did he care about the right thing? He usually opted for the easy thing, or that which would leave him with a more desirable solution, or... he hesitated, glancing down at Lilly, who had been whimpering at Tallulah's state and was now pacing back and forth at her owner's side. What's gotten into me? Honestly, just because she helped me once doesn't mean she's worth all this trouble. She owed me, godsdamnit! She payed her debt, we're on even ground, now it would be best to simply leave. But he didn't. Perhaps it was that same part of him that had come to her rescue that first time he had lain eyes on her kicking in, or perhaps he felt obligated to help he because he might still owe her for bailing him out of jail- hardly- or maybe... I'm losing my mind.

No, I've been losing my mind. That's far behind me, now, and I have finally lost every last bit I had to spare. He crossed over to her sink, grabbed up a clean white rag, and soaked it in cold water, ringing it out so it was damp and cool and returned to Tallulah's side, placing the rag on her forehead. He glanced down at Lilly. "I'm only dong this for you." He growled, not entirely sure why he even bothered himself with telling a dog his excuse. All of this was pointless. Utterly preposterous. Imbecilic. Every second that passed was full of him mentally berating himself. He would have to write when he returned home. And write a lot. It was the only way he would feel normal again, if he could even stoop to call himself normal at all. Not likely.

Darkness . . . Darkness and thoughts . . . Thoughts . . . It was all mixing together, flowing and changing and yet constant. Tallulah had been out cold for about thirty minutes, though it seemed much shorter to her. In the "in between" place she was, time slowed and sped and didn't really matter, but she was coming away from there, and falling back into herself. Her eyes fluttered open, and she was shocked. Shocked because she wasn't on her floor. Shocked because there was a cool rag on her fore head. Shocked because Artemis was leaning over her, staring down at her, and all the harshness was gone from him. He looked soft, and angelic and handsome and what the clocking hell was she thinking? Oh, well. She had just fainted. Her mind was out of sorts, anyway.

Tallulah was still queasy, but she doubted she would vomit. Even if she did, there would be nothing to throw up. She waited for the world to steady, but as long as her eyes wondered, the room did too. So she focused on Artemis - his brooding eyes, mainly - and tried to steady herself. Why had he stayed? Why did he care? Why did she like the slightly concerned look in his eyes? Why did she keep meeting him? Why did she even care? Why was she asking all of these damned questions?

She said nothing, simply looked up at him, her eyes trying to find some answer in his own. She didn't trust herself to speak - one of her inquiries might come spilling out, and then . . . It was still rather hard, the leveling of the room, but eventually everything looked steady enough, so she sat up, and . . . fell back immediately, closing her eyes with a groan. Bad idea. Bad clocking idea. So she started the steadying process again, looking up at him again, trying to convince herself that she was not looking merely for the sake of admiring him - after all, she could've chosen a spot on the ceiling. But he was there, and she was there, and it seemed like she had no choice. Not that she minded, really.

She felt sick, and tired, and so damn sleepy. Strangely, despite her nausea, she felt hungry, too. So she opened her lips, and in a small voice, she said, "water, please."

He only blinked when she opened her eyes, then continued looking into the ruby pools, because they were looking back. He waited silently for her to speak, and she didn't say anything. She just stared at him for gods only new how long, and it was beginning to make him feel uncomfortable. He shifted, about to say something, and then she sat up- and immediately fell back. His arms twitched as the reflexive urge to reach out and steady her again came over him, but he was able to restrain it this time.

He would have missed her, anyway, she wasn't falling toward him, and didn't have as long to fall, as she had last time. And then she finally opened her mouth and it made him feel better. It erased his concern, which was nice. He didn't like being concerned for other people- it made him doubt himself, because it could lead to other, silly, sentimental things that didn't matter but for the fact that they would inevitably end horribly in the long run.



He blinked, then nodded, all concern gone from his eyes, just a cold demeanor that said "I want to distance myself from you as quickly as possible." He stood rigidly, his stance vaguely awkward at first, as he had been sitting motionlessly for a half hour and such things tend to do bad things to one's joints and muscles, and then walked over to pour Tallulah a glass of cool, refreshing water, returned, and held it out to her. He thought about helping her sit up so she could drink it. That thought was dashed quickly and firmly from his mind. He would not allow himself to stoop to stoop to such lows. He said nothing the entire time, simply peering into her eyes as he held out the glass, his own eyes a deep pool of convoluted thoughts.

Tallulah sat up slowly this time, shaking slightly from the effort of not falling off the couch. She had already embarrassed herself enough for one evening, and would probably never hear the end of it. He had his guard back up - he was being as cold a he could - but for some reason, Tallulah couldn't find hers. It was shattered by lack of sleep, hunger, and something else that she couldn't quite place, but went deeper than anything else.

Watching him move about in her home was fascinating. He seemed out of his element, but still confidant in an odd sort of way. It was slightly uncomfortable to watch him move about in her kitchen, in her home, and she didn't know why. Maybe it was because her home was her space? Maybe because it seemed rather . . . intimate? No, that wasn't right. And then it hit her. He was the first man in her home sense her father left. Gods. Tallulah shook her head as if she could erase the thought permanently, but it was still there, looming in the back of her fuzzy mind.

He was walking back to her, glass in hand, his face still blaze and completely blink. It was just his eyes - always his eyes - that remained cloudy and conflicting. She reached out, taking the water slowly, breaking eye contact only to concentrate on not spilling. Tallulah pressed the cool cup to her full lips and drank slowly, taking small sips so as not to trigger some underlying gag reflex. When the cup was empty, she set it on the floor, moving her body at a snail's pace so she didn't push her boundaries too far. Looking up at him, she offered a soft, shaky smile.

"Thank you for-" Tallulah cleared her throat, and her voice gained most of her usual strength, yet somehow the words were softer, not as biting as her usual pithy remarks and short phrases. "Thank you. For everything." And for some crazy reason, she meant it. He claimed to hate her, and yet he stayed. It was odd, but it almost . . . almost touched her. Not many people would help a venomous thing such as herself. She looked down at her hands, furrowing her eyebrows as if in thought when really she was just embarrassed. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she get it together? Gods, Tallulah hoped he didn't say anything too harsh - when she got like this, her emotions were uncontrollable.

The simple ‘thank you’ struck him in an odd sort of way. It threw him off, for one. It was not what he had come to expect of her- if anything, he would have expected it to be sarcastic. It was the sheer sincerity of her words that puzzled him- he wasn't even sure she had ever been this sincere with him before, aside from when she was going on about how much she loathed him- that, he was sure, had been pretty damned sincere.

Honestly, he would have preferred it if she had forgotten her manners. If she had been rude to him- said something heartlessly cruel, if only to prove him right about her and the rest of her kind. Did that mean he honestly preferred people when they were as bad or worse than he had come to be? When people were as bad as he had come to expect from the world in which he lived? Perhaps not. No, definitely not. It was simply easier, sometimes, to deal with people when they followed what one had come to expect from them. When someone stepped out of what one had come to expect as the norm for them, it complicated things- made one question one’s outlook on the world one thought one lived in. No, he questioned things enough- too much, at times- he didn’t need anything else to give him pause. His thoughts were complicated enough as it was.

He was now stuck in a dilemma, simply for her act of being polite. Had she said something scathing it would have been easier to deal with her, because he would have been prepared for it- because he could have reacted in the manner that had become second nature to him- he could have said something equally cruel, or worse. He could end their meeting on negative terms. Then never have to see her again. That would be the simple thing. That might even be the wise thing- she only brought trouble, and to rid himself of her as quickly as possible would be best for his well being.

He shook his head, attempting to clear it, closed his eyes, then opened them, clear and silver and unreadable as ever. Then he spoke. “You’re welcome.” It was soft, even with the edge of irritation that made it cut through his throat. It was, in its own odd way, sincere.

And then he stood. And he turned away from her, glancing at the door but making no move to leave. He was at a loss. Silence hung in the air, uncomfortable, mildly awkward, and yet far less strained than it usually was- less tensed and ready to defend or attack as it usually was. In a surreal sort of way, it might have been considered pleasant.

It was odd, the silence. Almost tangible in its normalcy, yet strange in a way Tallulah couldn't quite put her finger on. He hadn't been mean, and it was such a different interaction that Tallulah didn't quite know what to do with herself. She just sat there, looking from her hands to him and back to her hands, her brow furrowed. "I don't suppose . . ." She wondered off. She was going to ask him to come back.

It was stupid. Why would he return? Because he had promised? He hated her. She . . . she was confused, but all the same, he loathed her. Didn't he? Gods, what was wrong with her? She needed food, and sleep, and a bath. A bath would be good. 'I wonder if I have any chamomile, or maybe lavender? They smell so nice . . . ' She was lost in her thoughts for only a moment when she heard Lily whine. The dog walked to Artemis, nuzzling his hand softly.

"It would mean a lot to Lily if you'd come back some time tomorrow. I am in no position to draw, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind the visit." Lu's smile was easy and soft, quite a contradiction to her usual demeanor. She pulled her knees up to her chin, and wrapped her arms around herself, looking up at him as kindly as she could. What in the name of Alioe had gotten in to her?

The silence was broken by the quiet little utterance. He slowly turned away from the door, eyes dropping to meet hers for the umpteenth time that day. Her manner was strange to him, in that moment. He wasn't used to seeing her this... docile? Feeble? It was odd, and it did strange things to him. Which was silly- why would she matter? That's right. She didn't. He'd killed so many people he shouldn't care anymore how weak or feeble a person looked- he'd seen countless dead people for Alioe's sake! Why should he concern himself over the health of someone else? And a golly, of all people? He shook his head. He did not care. "Is there something you need, Miss Anatine?" His voice had regained its cold, hard edge. It was comparable to a well-forged blade of steel.



He blinked. Then he smirked, one hand absently scratching the dog's head. "Lily would like it, mm?" He sighed, agitated at this point by... well, by everything that had come to pass in the past few days, and most of all by the way this woman complicated things. "I will come tomorrow, only because we had a deal." While he wouldn't exactly profess to be a man od his word, he usually did try to keep an oath, provided it wasn't too agonizing. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he would bother himself with returning. But a part of him knew he would. If only for the challenge. "If that is all, Miss Anatine, I should like to be off." His voice had regained its hard edge, and he was ready to leave.

He was just standing there, as cold and infuriating as always, and yet she wasn't mad. Huh. It seemed as if some things never changed. It was stupid of her to be this weak, to be this trusting, of someone she didn't know. And for a moment, she was scared. But the moment passed quickly, and suddenly they were just two people, in a sunny room, and it was odd. It was odd because she, in this half-delirious state, saw him as an equal, and didn't really mind. If he'd just smile, or maybe act like he cared, they might even become friends . . . no. That was impossible. Tallulah rubbed her eyes as if she was trying to rub that thought absurd from her foggy mind, and replace it with thoughts of pillows. And beds. And giant cookies and cups of tea and books. Yes, books and drawings and sleep. Glorious, pretty, restful sleep. Looking up at him once more, she nodded.

Gods, Tallulah was tired. She lay back on the couch, curling to one side, and closed her ruby-colored eyes. Her hair surrounded her small frame like a soft sheet of snow and drowsiness lay over her like a thick blanket. She yawned slightly, muttering something inaudible and most likely nonsensical but it still, somehow, solidified her agreement. Curling into a ball, she let her mind drift into her dreams.

And so she fell into a deep, dreamy sleep. It was amazing how quickly she could drift into a carefree sleep. She looked so peaceful. He smirked- he must look like some sort of creepy pervert, the way he was standing over her sleeping form. Idiot... Of course such thoughts would never cross his mind- certainly not for this woman. He grumbled. He needed sleep, too. And to clear his mind- get her out of it. So with that, he gave the dog one last pat and made his way out onto her front porch, shutting the door solidly behind him and taking a deep breath of fresh air, letting it out slowly through his teeth. It was time for him to go home. If he could even call it that.