Ravensblood Forest the one minute. the soldier's minute

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Lotte whispered his name, her tone giving a soft quiver, detectable to the gangster. Yet, all he could focus upon was the sound of his name falling from betwixt her lips again. It was such a pleasant sound. His answer came in the feverish insistence of her whisper. No. She named off whom he believed to be her other characters — Kaniini and Solene — and the reasons why she had not used them. As Lotte spoke it, one was too timid and the other never smiled. He took a moment to process. He couldn't say he'd ever met anyone who had different personas they adopted for different situations and wolves and yet he found that her use of her mask didn't bother him. So that begged the question, “Were you afraid to show me the real you?” Perhaps it hadn't been that at all, but he couldn't begin to fathom her reasons. Perhaps it had only meant to be fun but regardless he would never begrudge her for it. The important part was that she had came honest to him.

She insisted that she was real, moments before he felt the quivering touch of her nose against the underside of his chin, nuzzling. “I believe you,” He murmured as she nuzzled him, lifting his chin to expose what was already vulnerable to her. If she wanted to all it would take was her teeth to his throat. She could so easily crush his jugular and strangle the life from him as he'd done to so many. “I see you, Lotte. I see the real you.” He assured her, the smoky reticence of his deep, low voice softened, rumbling through the strong column of his throat. He bore her no grudge, held her no malice. There was only his interest, his appreciation for her honesty and the inexplicable trust he felt.

The rub of her cheek against his, the caress was nice and the gangster reveled in her prolonged touch. He had yearned for it and it did not disappoint. Even though this meeting had taken a turn so very unexpected. Yet, the caress ended when she tipped her head back and in turn exposed her throat to him. There was a small clench of Arturo's jaw as he studied the elegant curve of her throat. It was a flawless addition to what made up the masterpiece of Lotte. Yet, the gesture was one that was unnecessary. Without giving his inner thoughts voice he mimicked her ministrations against his own chin, though Arturo followed the curve of her throat with his muzzle, pausing for a moment before he placed a brazen kiss there before he drew back, his fiery, red-orange gaze seeking hers. “I will not harm you Lotte.” He vowed to her. He was undeniably smitten with her though he probably should have severed it, forced her away and told her to leave him and Chusi be he could not. The unexplained hold that ...whatever was beginning to manifest within him for Lotte was too powerful and though he realized this might end with him the masochist, bearing punishment for his actions he had no desire to fight it.

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