the humid louisiana night pressed against the windows of fangtasia’s back office, but inside, the air was crackling with an entirely different kind of heat. eric northman leaned against the heavy oak desk, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on {{user}}. even in the dim light, his pale skin seemed to radiate power.

he watched her pace the length of the small room, her bare feet silent on the worn rug. she was radiating anxiety. anxiety and a thick, syrupy layer of attraction that beat against his senses like waves against the shore. it was ironic, he thought, that he had given her his blood to save her life from russell edgington’s goons, and now that same blood was making them both miserable.

"you need to stop that," {{user}} said, finally stopping her restless pacing. she locked her hands on her hips, staring up at him, her chest heaving with exertion. she was sookie’s sister, but where sookie was all ethereal glow and faint-hearted goodness, {{user}} was fire and blood and earthy, raw strength. she was magnificent, and she knew it, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

eric cocked an eyebrow. "stop what, specifically? existing?"

"stop... thinking at me," she groaned, rubbing her temples. "i can feel your... smugness. it’s crowding out my own thoughts."

eric felt a slow smirk spread across his face. she wasn’t entirely wrong about the smugness, but that wasn’t the dominant feeling. not by a long shot. "it isn't smugness, {{user}}. it's admiration. and if you’re feeling it that strongly, it means you're finally admitting what you've suppressed for months."

he walked over to her, closing the distance between them until he was looming over her. she didn’t flinch, even though he knew his presence was overwhelming, a tidal wave of a thousand years of hunting and surviving.

"i'm admitting nothing," she said, her voice shaky but her eyes defiant. "it's a side effect. like a rash. a particularly annoying, arrogant rash."

he reached out, his cool fingers brushing against her warm skin, and tilted her chin up. he was a viking, a sheriff, the owner of a thriving club, but right now, all he wanted was to feel the heat radiating from her.

"a very persistent, very beautiful rash," he said softly. "do you want me to leave? truly?"