ʀᴀғᴇ ᴀúʟʟᴀ ᴀ ʟᴀ sᴏᴍʙʀᴀ ᴅᴇ (maginus) wrote in repose,
Rafe had nodded in response to her question, a wordless assurance that he too was fine. And then the knives had fallen, the sound of the blade points leaving the ceiling putting him back on high alert and causing him to turn even before the first one had hit the floor. It was mid-turn when his eyes changed, wolf bright and scanning the room once again for any possible cause even as Oona spoke behind him, suggesting that she might be the cause. Or whatever spirit was following her, rather.
His eyes were fully human again when he turned his head to look at her as she spoke not to him but the room itself, trying to address an entity which neither of them could see. The wolf was displeased with the idea that there might be something in the house that had not been invited, some intruder in the very heart of their territory, and Rafe could feel the heat of its anger pulsing through his veins even as Oona moved across the kitchen to try and clean up some of the mess. The sight of her carefully retrieving knives from the wet ground and setting them on the counter enabled Rafe to distance himself from the wolf's fired temper enough that he could bring his mind well and truly back to the moment, and her part in it.
"It's fine, don't worry about that" he said to her with a shake of his head, whipping the towel from where he had left it neatly draped over and through the handle for the oven. Miraculously it had been spared a soaking during the faucet's dramatic eruption but it wasn't dry for long; Rafe gave it a quick shake to spread it out and then tossed it on the ground to soak up some of the water. When his hands were empty again he offered one to Oona, not because he thought she couldn't cross a kitchen floor by herself but because he didn't want her to slip and hurt herself. It was as he was offering his hand that she said what she did about his buttons and he smiled at her with a soft chuckle. Rafe had forgotten all about his state of dress, or undress more to the point.
"I feel like I'm at a disadvantage here," he said to her, hoping to take her mind well and truly off the unexpected but ultimately unimportant mess of the kitchen. He could deal with that later. Compared to what he had done to his basement during Repose's last bout of memory-related strangeness it was relatively minor. What he wanted to concentrate on was the beautiful woman standing in his kitchen, and how there was far too much distance between them all of a sudden.