Not sure if it counts as weird, but maybe something from before your Overexposed story takes place, showing the strained professional relationship between Solas & Lavellan? Bonus points for yet-to-be-resolved sexual tension!
For @dadrunkwriting and @soetzufit <3
“And if there are no more objections,” Venus glared directly at him, “this will conclude our staff meeting.”
Furious and irritated, Solas stood. The chair he had vacated made a piercing screech across the worn floor, causing several heads to sharply turn in his direction. He paid them no mind as he stormed out of the room, down the hall and into the Art wing, pacing outside his designated office. Which, just to his unfortunate luck, mirrored Venus’ office.
He flexed his fingers, clenching and unclenching, as he kept his eyes glued to the floor.
“What the hell was that?”
He stopped mid step.
“I could ask you the same question.” Heat flared through his every nerve. He spun on his heel to face her.
Fire burned in her amber eyes, her own fury etched in the downturn of her lips.
“Never, ever,” she hissed stepping towards him, “undermine me again, Solas.”
He matched her step, leaning down over her intimidating stance, “don’t ever give me reason to again.”
“How dare you challenge me,” she jutted her chin up as she pressed a hand to chest and pushed,”you need some lessons in obedience.”
“Oh Venus,” he said dangerously, recovering from her shove“you underestimate my patience.”
The tension between them was electric, shockingly tangible. He thought if he reached out and touched her, the contact alone would shock him. Her stare never faltered, only growing in intensity. A soft fluttering sensation ricocheted in his rib cage as her fingers ran down his chest, over the buttons through his pullover sweater. His lips parted and suddenly it was all he could focus on.
“Then maybe I should test it.” She grabbed a fistfull of his sweater, pulling him in and elimnating the distance between them.
“Cole. Is. Mine.”
She released him forcefully, his back slamming into his office door. His breath caught in his throat as her left eyebrow quirked, tongue running along her bottom lip as she stepped back. Smirk spreading across her face as she slowly backed away from him.
His mind was reeling, he wanted to scream, wanted to object. But all he could focus on was the feeling of her hand splayed across his chest and the purse of her lips.
Gods how he wanted to shove her against the wall and tell her how he really felt.
But by the time he had gathered the courage, she was already strutting half way down the hall, ass swinging in time with thick braid of her hair.
