Lingering Glance (Patreon)
Content
Regarding this.
You smirk at Hadrian. "Forgive us," you say, turning then to wink at Alessa. "I couldn't tear her arms from around my neck. She may look lean, but there's a hidden strength in those muscles."
You lean over, bringing your mouth near her ear. "Someone was especially clingy this morrow."
You don't look at Hadrian. It's not him you're interested in. Your eyes stay locked on Alessa, who slowly turns her chin towards you. "It appears ${Name} still dreams," she addresses Hadrian in a long-suffering tone. "For ${mc_she} mistakes fantasies for reality."
You chuckle. "Deny all you want, Alessa. You and I both know the truth."
"I wonder if you do," she says. "I truly worry if you can discern between your lies and the truth."
"So you deny the passionate way you greeted me this morning?"
Alessa's cheeks flush. "There was nothing passionate about it."
"Lies."
"I do not—"
A chuckle rings through the air.
Alessa stiffens, and you turn your head to see Hadrian smiling wide at both of you. His eyes are crinkled at the corners, and his face has a smug edge that you don't often see in him.
"What seems to be so amusing?" Alessa demands.
"You, Alessa," Hadrian says. "I've never seen you like this before. It's, uh. "His smile turns more sincere. "It's refreshing."
- - -
Your cheeks heat under the chill of her gaze. You got so caught up in the moment that you forgot Alessa was standing right there. "I'm sorry," you say, stepping back from Hadrian.
He lets you go, but not before resting his hand briefly on your hip, fingers warm as he accompanies your movement. Your blush deepens as you steal a glance at him, but Hadrian is staring at Alessa. "There's no need to be cynic, Alessa," he says, voice almost chastising.
Alessa seems as surprised as you. She lifts her eyebrows, accessing him for a moment. "And there is no need for raised tempers. You may retract your claws, Templar. I am sure ${Name} can speak for herself."
"I'm not speaking for ${mc_her}," Hadrian is quick to say, his voice harsh, but you can see the slight way he falters. He glances at you. "Uh, right?"
Alessa smirk. "No, you are simply prepared to wage war for ${mc_her}," she says, looking him up and down with what can only be called distaste. "At least, you dress for the part."