'Zevran, how are you?' His heart seemed to squeeze tight at the sight of her. The warden that had decided his life was worth saving and not killing in a heart beat. Her light curls hung low at her back, whilst slow wind made them lift once and a while, but her fringe above her eyes never moved not once. Her eye's held innocence but at the same time seemed to tell any viewer she had been through alot and was anything but innocent. The colour of her eye's was not precise, they were mixed, blue, green, grey and even a tinge of purple when the light hit them. He thought she had magnificent beauty.
'Whenever i am in the same room or place as beauty i am always fine,' he took her hand and gave it a gentle kiss, 'My dear woman, how are you?' He smiled as she blushed, bringing colour to her face, which revealed, more of where her hypnotic elven tattoo's were. Complicated patterns, but they made her who she was he thought. That was what they did, just like his own.
'ZEVRAN! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!' they both turned as Alistair came running down the cold hall, in a towel... and nothing else. His face was full of anger and embarrisment as he ran holding the towel in place. Several guards and servants dropped their things in shock and one even screamed and fainted, in a overreaction.
Zevran gave Cyrene a salute and she gave him a knowing smile, then Zevran set off down the hall away from the running Alistair, who was clearly worried about his towel falling off. Cyrene stood watching after them a smile playing on the sides of her lips. Alistair was soon after him, calling out abuse.
Soon after Alistair had given up on chasing, as he decided it was better to get clothes first, Zevran began walking towards Cyrene's room. Her room was on the north side of the castle, she insisted on it because it pointed to her home. Then he stopped, what was he doing?
He always let the woman come to him, chase him. Unless he had a job, assasination being the correct term. He was the one who made them fall in love with him, only to have their fate come the next morning. So why did he make himself go to her room most days when they stopped at castles. Why he only went there, to talk. He only went to listen to her voice, only to hear her thoughts.
He stopped himself right outside of her room, was he, Zevran Aranai, falling... for someone. Something he was never going to do, or so he had thought. Confusment ran through his mind, did he want this? was he going against himself? was this something stupid? Was he even capable of love?
Without realising his hand switched out and knocked loud on the door, he stared at his hand as if in betrayal. Then he heard light footsteps on the other side and he made sure he wasn't panicked. After all he was thee Zevran Aranai. Then the door opened and she was in her night ware. He looked her up and down and tried not to open his mouth in, well.
'oh, Zevran, i hoped to see you after that incident. You need to stop playing these tricks on him, it's getting alittle to amusing. I'd ask you in but as you can see I - auhh!'
He stopped her talking with a kiss that surprised her but then she releaxed, just abit, he could hear her heart beating too fast. It was a kiss that left you wanting more, and her hands went straight to his blond hair, fingers tangling. When he stepped back they were both out of breath and a little flusterd. She smiled at him with a sheepesh grin and stepped in to hug him. He returned it, greatful for the comfort of finally having her so near.
Zevran Aranai then found that yes, he was capable of love and he would love her, to his best.