The pretty little angel before him had a sort of wall that hit him square in the face — every subtle advance actually sent him three steps back. It was probably inappropriate of him to think that made it all a little more exciting, especially considering the time, the place, the literal situation carrying on around them. But what could he say? He felt as if his heart had opened — truly — for the first time in years. All because she was a little lost on her way to donate to them. What an angel she was indeed. “Bet you're real cute rereading the pages.” The giggle that followed was of a giddy man not of strong resolve, and he would like to blame the sleep deprivation for that. He cleared his throat, looking down, then side to side before braving another attempt at what he meant. “I just meant, you probably get a little furrow on your face while you read — I think I can see the divot now if I squint.” Nicci teased her, hoping to get a little under her skin as he pointed between her eyebrows. There was a simplicity to her that unnerved and fascinated him — luring him closer to her without meaning to. “You like to get dirty, huh?” His brows raise and his eyes are half lidded, gazing at her with a newfound appreciation he hoped snaked its way under her skin. Dominic could not, for the life of him, figure out what she was. Part of him thought an angel, it only made sense why that was the phrase that kept popping up as he thought about her. But he could also see a siren or a witch, maybe that was why he was lured in by her song or her spell. But at the mention of blood, recognition crossed his features. It made the most sense of course — why she was in no need of food, her icy white skin and the lack of flush on her cheeks when he spoke to her (surely she couldn't have just been uninterested). “Oh, I gotcha.” He nodded, his smile as easy as it was before. “Got a vaewolf on the team — she does just fine ‘round blood. You’ll get there in time. Scout's honor.” His desire to flirt with her was overshadowed by his need to comfort and protect, because something told him even just standing this safe distance from him was triggering her senses. In any other case, this would have been the perfect moment to press the advantage, make her squirm. But it was more important to be a good man to him.
It was a relief she hadn't taken him up on the offer to make a dog joke, though, it would have been deserved if she had. There was a part of him underneath all the bravado that just wanted to lie down and have a good cry about what had happened. And maybe he would, in a few weeks or during the memorial service — but today he was energetic and able to share his warmth with the world, just as he had been taught. So her laugh was music to his ears, proof he could still be good, despite it all. “No, no. I am actually real serious. All doom and gloom. All. The. Time.” He teased, fighting the temptation to bump his shoulder against hers. It would have been more his arm against her shoulder, but he fought the instinct nonetheless, because there was coming on too strong, and there was coming on way too strong. He tried to stay in the former, but couldn't resist the “You must bring it out of me.” that escaped him as he caught her gaze. Nicci gives a slow, pointed smile, his eyes giving a once over that could be taken however she liked. Her words don't have the sting she feared, though, her explanation wasn't what he wanted to hear. ‘Brave enough to smile’ made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Who were the hunters to take their joy and squash it so desperately? He was sure many had lost a lot recently, but that didn't mean they had to hide in their fear and grief and be scared to express the good things. Like meeting Aeri was a good thing for him, might be the highlight of his week. It broke his heart to know that so many people in town were too afraid to let anything but hate, anger, grief, and sadness touch their souls. What he wouldn't give to change that. “Just doing what I can for the people.” His smile doesn't reach his eyes this time, the phrase something of an autopilot as he tried to regain his composure. Instead, he gave her a piece of himself behind the happy go lucky man, and says softly, “It helps with morale. Glad to know its raising your spirits too.”
The laugh that rang between his eardrums is angelic and so taken aback my his come on that if Dominic were a lighter man, he'd sure be showing a blush. It didn't help that as a werewolf he already ran hot, and the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks at her laugh had him downright scalding underneath his skin. The whole room suddenly felt loud and dull at the same time, the ringing of chatter like a pitch only he could hear, steady and resounding in contrast to the irregular pumps of his heart. He was simultaneously embarrassed and more smitten by the way she brushed him off, and it was the sort of doomed kind of attention his family always warned him to run from. And yet, he wanted closer, to convince her of his worth. “Why wouldn't I flirt with a beautiful woman?” He asked, his face hot and burning, making it feel like the imaginary heat radiating off of him was clouding his vision. When she persisted, asking follow up questions, he felt like he was on trial. He'd have much rather had her just say it wouldn't happen and be done with it. He tried to answer her truthfully, with as much dignity as he could muster, but he was definitely feeling a little flustered. “It's not like I'm forcing you. Please feel free to say no." He assured her, though she had been the one to initially ask. “I just wanted to stay up and talk to that pretty face of yours." He paused, his expression softening for a moment. "Kind of like your energy, angel.” His gaze broke from hers as he looked down in embarrassment. “Is that so hard to believe?” This question broke him out of his sorrow long enough to look genuinely concerned for her well being. Had no one chosen her over anything else? Surely a girl like her has been loved — she's probably drowning in all her suitors' affections, never having to decide on a person. Dominic shrugged his shoulders, “Can't have anyone thinking the guns were just for show.” As much as he wanted to retain an ounce of his dignity, her flexed his arms for her, hoping she would get just a hint of as flustered as she made him.
The questions return, and he has to remind himself that she just said she worked at the chronicle. Clearly investigating was just part of her nature, even if he did feel like he didn't have the answers. “No ma'am.” He agreed, nodding his head in her direction. He didn't have that valiance to run into a burning building — sue him. He'd much rather tend to the wounded while all the other's played hero — he had already fought and lost a battle, and he wasn't keen on returning to that state of mind. He had hardly escaped that man now, no need to make it harder by falling back on his old ways. Especially after this attack. “A little after I got here, actually. Mostly trained with dummies and followed Rory around until they let me officially join the outpost.” Then there comes the phrase he really doesn't like. ‘I’m sorry for your loss' had become a mantra here, on the lips of every wolf, angel, nymph, or what have you that wandered into the Outpost. Everyone had lost someone. He couldn't think about their bodies all crumpled and lifeless, the light fading from them. “Everyone lost someone.” He nodded, his voice quiet. “Thank you, Aeri. I know this hasn't been easy on anyone.” He paused, a small smile pulling on his lips. “I hope you and your loved ones are healing.”
