WitchBite

Contented

 I spooned the hot cup of tea, not really paying all that attention to the gentle clang of metal on porcelain as Aramis sat across the table from me. We talked absolute nonsense for the most part, and I couldn't help but smile warmly at the sheer amount of comfort I had just being near him and doing nothing.

I took in all his features. He was wearing a white, short-sleeved, shirt that hugged his biceps and chest like it was slightly too small for him. The sharp angle of his jaw as it turned from his neck and ended with a boyish smattering of small hairs, that dotted his chin and held a barely visible trail to the fullness of his bottom lip. The way his eyes seemed to sparkle with an unbridled sense of joy, when they weren't tucked away behind pleased and happy eyelids that he closed often when he laughed or smiled too hard.

He still had a moustache of froth from taking too much of a dive into his coffee which he hummed at sweetly. He'd attempted to lap at it with a surprisingly dexterous tongue earlier, but couldn't quite reach all of it, and I must admit; I felt only slightly disappointed when he wiped the rest away with the back of his hand.

"So there's a fair this weekend" I brought up nonchalantly, suddenly feeling a wave of self-consciousness wash over me; like we were being watched. I made sure that we weren't doing anything intimate or anything that could implicate we were a couple, no matter how much I wanted to. I wasn't entirely comfortable with what people might think, despite how modern attitudes were around here.

"I'm in" He replied, grinning, snapping me from my distraction.

"What? Really? We'd be going with Jace and Victoria..." I replied, doing my best to focus on the conversation. But my eyes kept darting around looking for other eyes looking at us. A few strangers caught my attention, making brief and awkward eye contact as they returned to their own conversations and tables. A fat, ginger, cat briefly looked in my direction with its expected indifferent expression before scampering off to find a suitable spot for a snooze. A man dressed in a blue business suit, walked passed our table, deep in conversation on his phone, but shooting a glance our way. The tapping of a magpie caught my attention then, as it smashed something shiny against a slate rooftop. Why was I being so paranoid? Why couldn't I just shake this feeling over being watched?

"Avery? Helloooo?" Aramis said, placing a hand on my shoulder, once again; returning me back to our conversation, I smiled uneasily.

"Oh sorry. I got distracted."

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, yes. It's nothing. So you want to go with me to the fair with Victoria and Jace?" I reaffirmed, unsure whether I should bring up Victoria's previous attitude about Vampires to him or not, but ultimately decided not to. I didn't want him being nervous about hanging around my friends, as if one being a Witch and the other a Werewolf didn't already complicate things. I'm sure I'd be nervous enough for the both of us anyway.

"Sure! It's a date! Would this be our second, or our third one, I wonder?" He mused tapping his chin with his finger. I rolled my eyes and laughed, throwing a teasing jab at his arm, which expectedly, but still surprisingly, he caught. My fist was in his hand, although he wasn't squeezing, it shocked me how effortlessly he caught it, and it confused me how he still had not let go. He loosened a little more, snaking his fingers underneath my palm before brushing the softness of his lips against my knuckles. I could only shrink in response, immediately blushing, like I was some 1800s young maiden-fare being courted by a young suitor who with such a miniscule and intimate gesture, implied so much more.

He didn't laugh or poke fun, as I scanned the immediate vicinity for an audience as if I was amidst some scandal. Instead he lightly tugged at my hand, a gesture intended to pull me in further for a kiss somewhat deeper than the one on the back of my palm, but gentle enough that he left the decision to go further up to me. I couldn't tell if he could read my emotions in any capacity, but something about the soft expression that he held as he tilted his head slightly to the left; made me feel safe despite the panicked thumping of my heart and the current acute, hyper, self-awareness, that was coursing through my veins. My body was screaming at me to run, to pull away, to hide from the prying, judgemental, eyes of nobody. But there was a defiance bubbling up within the surface of my chest, a different kind of warmth to the uncomfortable clamminess of nerves. It was hot and fiery and devilish. It shone boastful, and proud in all it's unfathomable brightness.