Azazeal (thefallen) wrote in zombieslogs, @ 2013-03-23 15:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | !storm of the century, azazeal, viktoria belikova |
Who: Viktoria and Azazeal
What: Being trapped in the Inn and having some talks
When: Tomorrow during the storm
Warnings: No idea, but will update
After recently taking a trip away from Everett to gather a few supplies, Azazeal was pleased that Viktoria had requested to stay at the Inn for the weekend. They still saw one another often, but since the days when both she and Buffy had stayed with them, it had become very quiet lately. He worried about the two girls, as did Malachi, but trusted them to handle things themselves. Both were strong in their own ways and he knew they would come out of their struggles with their heads held high.
He picked Viktoria up from the prison and smiled at her gently as she signed herself out with him as her escort. As amusing as the prison's buddy system seemed to him, he knew it was necessary in these times. Azazeal himself often ventured out on his own, but he wasn't one to go looking for trouble either. He knew how to keep his head down and when to keep to himself. The first night she was back at the Inn they thoroughly enjoyed themselves in various ways. They both had needed to adjust to her current state versus how she had been while she lived at the inn. She busied herself in the kitchen and this time she was able to eat the food herself rather than watch him or others eat it alone.
It was the second night of being together of the weekend and he'd drawn Viktoria a bath, using aromas that he'd brought back from his permanent home in London. Ones that would enhance both of their senses and feel like heaven against her soft, pale skin. Azazeal may have been a fallen angel, presumed to be cold and calculating at times, but there was an entirely different side to him at times and Viktoria seemed to bring that out in him as Strigoi as well as now. She'd been worried that he wouldn't want her after the change, but he'd assured her with his words and actions that her concerns had been nonsense.
"Thinking of anything in particular?" He asked her once they were settled in the bath. He'd already massaged the shampoo into her hair and let it rinse. Her back was against his chest and their skin was beginning to wear the effects of the water which was beginning to cool. They'd talked and sat in comfortable silence for a bit, but she seemed to have something on her mind. He could have pried it out of her with his own mind, but he preferred to hear her explain it herself.