When his eyes opened, my crazed thoughts came to a crashing halt. I felt as if I had been caught. Trapped. I couldn't move, could barely breathe as he stared at me for what seemed like forever. Emotion washed over his face, lust, bemusement, humor, and... fear. The fear surprised me. I had never seen him display it, never expected to see it. I didn't know how to respond to it.

He frowned slightly, looking up at me more, head tilting slightly. I expected him to say something. He should have some urbane quip or something to break the tension that was growing thicker by the moment.

He began to sit up. My hands tightened on his shoulders reflexively, holding him still. He was surprised now, and a bit angry. And still afraid. It was such a radical change from what I had seen in him before. He held himself very still, watching me, carefully guarding his expression. He was expecting me to do something. He was right. I was in control of this situation. Why was I sitting here, completely dumb?

I hadn't the faintest clue what to do. I didn't know whether I wanted to push him away or pull him closer to me. I couldn't think, couldn't move. My entire being was tensed, centered on him. Waiting for him to do something for the love of god.

Please...I found myself silently begging, cursing myself for my weaknesses. I should have seen something like this coming, but now... Please just say something. The words became a silent mantra, repeating over and over inside my head.

Oblivious to my confusion, he stared serenely at me, just gazing up with his damnably hypnotic eyes until I thought I couldn't bear it anymore. I imagined too many layers of meaning in his steady gaze. I could feel my hands tightening on his shoulders. It must have been painful. My claws must certainly be digging into, even piercing his skin through his robes.

Why wouldn't he do something? I couldn't handle it anymore. I broke eye contact suddenly, closing my eyes and turning my head, but I still held him, caught between my nonsensical desires.

He sighed softly in my grip, his whole body moving gracefully with his breath. I felt him relax, going loose in my arms. My arms felt weak, and almost as if they were shaking. Maybe they were. I wouldn't look to find out.

He was touching me. I opened my eyes in surprise as his fingers slipped into my hair. He no longer watched me with that strange, foreign fear. Instead, he was smiling again as he reached up to grasp my shoulder with his other hand.

I don't think I had ever seen that particular smile from him before. It was different. Deeper somehow. It made me want to shiver. I wondered who else had seen it and what exactly it foretold.

Slightly rough fingertips ran along my hair almost tentatively, then skimmed down along my forehead, eyebrow, cheekbone. They spent several seconds tracing the patterns of my cheek markings. Then they slipped over to pause at my mouth, just barely touching my lower lip with two fingertips.

Slowly, with a touch of wickedness, he winked at me, leaning up into me against my grip and pressing his lips to mine, dropping both his hands to curl around my wrists in a tight grip.