Feast of Saint Valentine (private)

[Heath Moore]

ooc

Still alive!

Heath's hand closes overtop Violet's as it came to rest on his knee. Though he was nervous and excited all at once, he felt right and good and wonderful all the same. "Maybe they do. And maybe there were. It seems all a blur," he chuckles at the accidental rhyme but continues. "I know some of us see Dreams a certain way, though I've never had a talent for that. But in this Dream I see someone I admire, that I aspire to stand by if only to bask in the glow that shines from her. I'm not sure of all the details or if it's even real, but I suppose that's what makes it a Dream."

His eyes shift side to side and then he moves closer to whisper conspiratorially, "Though if I remember real hard I'm sure I could recall some naughty bits too. But then that might've been wishful thinking instead of a Dream, hehe." A playful joke just as he was starting to sound serious about something. Still, a sparkle in his eye indicated he was still feeling the moment between them. Heath was having fun, he was in bliss and the world around him was far away.

[Changeling ST]

Violet enjoyed his constant flattery, what woman wouldn’t. Although it seemed to run deeper than flattery or even admiration to the Nightsinger. The world of the Emerald Court was about desires and to act upon them if they harmed no one. The Fairest was certain she wasn’t reading him wrong now. “Again, you flatter so. Sometimes dreams come true, and often they are such a beautiful way to escape, no?” The Fairest Flowering certainly had an inkling of what the Harlequin spoke upon. It was coming to that point in the evening where dancing on words was no longer an option. It was something that should come to fruition.

“Naughty bits hm? I do not think it is wishful thinking in the slightest.” Violet’s eyes gleamed as their color changed in a way that reflected a desire she was thinking. Having not even taken a bite of food yet, her delicate hand wisped around the top of the table. “Do you think the server could box this up, to go… to your place?”

Lifting her hand into the air to call attention to the server, she turned with a lustful grin to Heath. “Wish granted.” A long wink and her own anticipation of what he’d do next.

[Heath Moore]

The promise of untold pleasures wafted from every gesture and lilt in Violet's siren-sing-song voice. Had Heath been unwilling he would still fall to her charms. But Heath was far more than willing. Eager and enamored by this playful soul, for him she embodied more than simple pleasure, but joy and fulfillment. All they had said to each other this night had been true, honest and open. Though he might seem the trickster, he was a sincere fool. It hadn't even crossed his mind that she might have ill-intentions, so trusting was he. Tiny voices cried out beneath the torrent of Desire, warning him of another wish he had been granted years ago that led to his Durance. But Violet was nothing like that Keeper. This was different.

In a soft amorous voice he whispers between his grinning teeth, "I had promised myself I would hold back on a first date. I think I'll forgive me for breaking that tonight." Heath stood and offered a hand to take hers in his. They didn't need the food. They were those who fed on the joys of life and living. And they would be sated in ways far more than mortals might know. Escorting her, Heath made for the limo and his place.

On Valentines Day, two hearts became one and beat in unison.

End Scene