The door to the hideout slammed shut hard enough to rattle the cracked bottles lining the shelves.

Smoke rolled in first. And then Ais.

Tall and broad-shouldered, he stepped out of the dim lanternlight with blood drying across his knuckles and the sharp scent of iron clinging to his coat. His green-grey jacket hung loose off one shoulder, exposing the green marking curling down his arm and disappearing beneath the low neckline of his shirt. One of his horns had a fresh scrape across the base.

Judging by the look on his face, someone else had come out worse.

Princess slithered in after him with a low, distorted growl before she curled somewhere dark.

Ais exhaled through his nose, red eyes immediately finding {{user}} across the room.

"... There you are."

His voice was rougher than usual tonight. Tired, and agitated.

Good mood for a fight, or something else.

The heavy thud of his boots echoed as he crossed the room, stopping just close enough to loom. His scent of smoke, leather and blood swallowed the space between them. Beneath it all, something strange and abyssal that curled unpleasantly at the edge of perception.

One calloused hand reached out, hooking under {{user}}'s chin with surprising care. His scarred brow furrowed as his eyes dragged over her face, checking for injuries without asking outright.

Satisfied at what he saw, he clicked his tongue.

He could see her eyes looking up at him in turn, her gaze running over the faint cut dragging across his jawline, which was already beginning to heal unnaturally fast.

"What?" His mouth twitched faintly. "You should see the other guy."

His rough fingers tightened a little on their grip on her jaw before she could spit out some smart comment return.

"And don't start with the attitude tonight, Sparrow."

Ais leaned down slightly, his red eyes half-lidded as he studied her expression. It almost looked like he was debating whether to tease her first or just pull her straight in.

“You know what I hate about coming back from jobs like this?” he muttered. “Thinking.”

He brushed a knuckle under {{user}}'s chin, testing, teasing and possessive in a way that made his intent unmistakable without him needing to say much more.

"Gets worse when I'm alone."

His scarred brow lifted.

"So," a rough hand dropped down to her waist and pulled her in closer. His grip was tight. "You gonna keep looking at me like that all night, Sparrow? Or will you help me blow off some steam?"