Julius + Maeve Sunrise
"Of course not. Then I wouldn't be very good at all, and would you like me so much if that were the case, A stór?" Not that his affection was based on her skill as a thief alone, surely, but it was part of it. Or at least, the hook. Her intelligence. The catlike ability to land on her feet that he had as well. Although, she supposed that wouldn't be so bad either, being wanted mostly for her thieving skills. It was something that she had worked hard on, that wasn't given, it came with sweat, blood and tears, got her where she was. Though there was a steady knowledge in her gut somehow that no, there was no singular piece of her that he was interested in. That caught her off guard. The belief in someone.
Her head tilted, watching his hands with a pleased hum, one of her own reaching up to sneak under his shirt sleeve, pressing close to soak in the warmth there, "I considered it." No shame or apology in her voice, baby blues drifting back to the sky to watch the shift as the world awakened properly. Yes, she had considered it, briefly, once when he first arrived and again when he remembered their first meeting. Self-preservation and the knowledge of when to cut and run was one of the things she was most proud of, and she wouldn't apologize for it this late. Especially when her heart was involved, and that had never been something she could prevent, not really, even if it had doubled in recent months.
Yet, their intimate moments had been so gentle, strung out nice and sweet, requiring patience but with the most wonderful reward. Like slow dripping honey, actually. That probably wasn't what he was hinting at, but it was where her thoughts had gone anyway, and an expression normally out of place for Maeve crossed her face - all hunger and teeth, for the briefest moment, "You know. When we were together in 1985, there was a moment, before we really got going, that I lamented I wasn't Sebastian. That I couldn't properly throw you about. Just a bit." Low and sultry, her eyes catching his, taking his measure, curious to see if this thought, that image, would frighten him at all. Throw him off.
But Maeve was back in the next beat, "Well. I can do that, hopefully they got a few more tricks up their sleeves." Her head tilted suddenly, like a cat who had just heart the sound of a bird on the windowsill, the sound of Little Red Corvette filtering up from the speakers on the ground. Her own delighted laughter filled the air, "Did you know, he tried to convince me for a few minutes this was actually about a car?"