When he smiled at her like that, she knew he could ask her to do anything and she'd probably do it. She might grouse and complain the whole damn time, but she'd do it, no matter how mundane or frustrating. Because he smiled at her. She felt that pull again. That need to be near him that she hated so very much and was completely powerless to fight. She'd been so low, when he'd arrived. Now that she'd healed, had time to come to peace with the betrayal of it all, she realized how dangerous she could have become. Had he not arrived when he had, she might have done some hunting of her own. But he had. He had come, and he had given her a purpose again, and he had kept her calm. Maybe that was why she felt so tied to him now. Without him, that calm started to run out like water.
That was their relationship, in a nutshell, she supposed. He'd needed her to watch him when he was at his weakest. And she'd watched. She'd needed him to calm her when she was at his most dangerous. And he'd done just that. They were both broken in so many ways, but their jagged edges fit together anyway. What two creatures, in all of creation, could make that claim and actually mean it? Part of her still wanted to run. The part of her that recognized the weakness he brought out in her rebelled and demanded that she go back to her home and stay there. Or, better yet, find some hot young thing and take him back with her, forget about her poor little angel in someone else's flesh. She wanted to return to the numbness she'd known for so many years, but she was beginning to think that life was gone forever. When she looked up at him, and he smiled down at her, she felt like maybe her soul wasn't quite so tarnished as it used to be.
She turned back towards him, one corner of her mouth curving upwards. Not quite a smile, but almost. There was a glint of amusement in her eyes as she looked up at him.