"Turn around."

Asa stood in the lobby of The Claire when he heard the words. He turned, slowly. Curious. If there had been one whit of imperiousness in the words, it wouldn't have been curiosity. No, there was something else -- just a hint of hesitance, that kept the Ventrue blood from seething.

The curiosity deepened as he studied the small, old woman. His eyes moved reflexively over her clothing, noting the quality, and whether or not there was any sense of taste or style applied. As he cocked his head in question, a mottled hand reached out. It was only the curiosity that kept him from withdrawing, and allowed it to touch his face.

"You haven't changed..."

The hand drifted over his cheek, then down to the lapel of his suit.

"...much."

Dangerous words. It wouldn't be the first time such a thing had happened. Most were incredibly foolish attempts at extortion. A records official here and there. Asa arched an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

The hand moved back up to his face, to his his lips.

"I just want to feel that way, again..."

The words were a whisper.

Asa gave the old thing a better look. Those dim, cloudy sage eyes could have been vivid green, once. The soft, liver spotted cheeks could have been cheekbones to die for, once. Once, almost a lifetime ago. Her lifetime. He remembered her. Once, she'd been a favorite blood doll. He smiled, nodding slightly in recognition and acknowledgment.

He kissed one of her fingertips, knowing that wasn't the Kiss she wanted, and opened his mouth to gently bite the skin.It tasted of lavender soap; he didn't break the skin, but slowly dragged it between his teeth as he pulled the hand away from his face and held it.

"Show me to your room."


Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree
I travel the world and the seven seas
Everybody's looking for something

Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused
-- The Eurythmics