Pirate Hunter: ON HIATUS

Zoro’s response elicited the most minute smile across Hawkins’stoic features and with a light squeeze on the other’s hip, he pressed a kiss into his hair, before straightening again to catch a glimpse of the other’s face.

When he asked about her, the druid fell silent again, turning to glance at the closed door. “…She’s safe here.” Was all she could say. Within the Manor’s territory, the heiress wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone, much less herself. The Matron was starting to worry about the stillness of Alice’s aura, how it had been drawn in so densely inside herself. 

When he explained what happened, she halted to a stop, growing deadly silent for a long second before sighing. There were too many factors, too many questions to be asked, but unlike the two of them, she had a clear head and could understand both the reasoning and the aftermath. She was at a momentarily loss at how to proceed, but first things first.

Zoro frowned and nudged Hawkins boot off his chair. It’s weird enough they are having drinks does he have to be so...no. Not following that train of thought. He would like to keep their personal space, personal. Zoro’s lips parted to speak, clearly over thinking his response to Hawkins. Zoro didn’t want to give him any opening.He huffed and closed his mouth with a small frown. He settled for just downing his drink in one go. At this rate he should just have the whole bottle dropped off. Which he did before finally speaking again as the bartender left.

{ ✠ } —— It was nearing the end of the day when Hawkins did finally get a hold of Zoro and not a moment later did he reach for the other, gloved palm curled around a hip while he nuzzled into soft green locks. The familiar sharp scent drew a quiet content sound from Hawkins and he lingered with a small show of possessiveness.

Amusement laced with his words before his lips wrapped around the edge of his glass for a drink. The cold liquid slid down his parched throat that ached for something else. It hadn’t escaped Hawkins’ attention, of course, that he had gotten a drink from the hunter before. 200 years had passed and still, he could remember the taste.  It burned, as essence from hell should burn like, and sat severely sweet on his tongue. 

Absently, he licked his lips. Red hues drifted from the hunter towards the bartender, then to the large mirror sitting behind the bar. His reflection stared back in a mirrored blase expression, equally waiting. What were they waiting for? They had all the time in the world and then some.

So she kept walking, putting one foot in front of the other without stopping. Even humans with no sensitivity for the supernatural wouldn’t dare to approach her right then, with her aura projected outwards like a mantle of glass shards, ready to cut and rub anyone raw if they so much as stepped too close.

She couldn’t tell how much time had passed when a car sent by the Matron - who’d sensed the sudden disruption to her usually withdrawn aura - pulled up beside her. Alice got in almost robotically, not asking any questions or saying anything, just allowing herself to be taken back to the Manor. Even after arriving, she couldn’t bring herself to speak and just retired to her chambers, letting the bathtub fill and sinking into it with no regards to her clothes.