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/Because the Gods hate her/-Me and Lieutenant Ducky-

T

TheDarkerMe

Supernova
Joined
Jan 11, 2009
Location
Oregon
Aisling sighed as she crouched down in the grass. She was out gathering herbs for one of her sister's spells. Her eyes where focused on the plant that she was cutting, she apologized to the earth as she took the snippets of herbs. Their was a pouch at her side, filled with small baggies with herbs in them. She had been gathering since early morning, but she was glad she was out and about. As of the moment, she hadn't really had too much to worry about. She was just working on getting what her sister had asked for.

As the oldest of the Nox-Draige twelve sisters, she had the duty of watching over and making sure her siblings had what they needed. More then that, her duty was more important then that. As the oldest she was the 'Fae Guardian', a duty her family had held since the time when the Fae had first started appearing in the human realm. The bloodline fell through her mothers, and the duty often fell on a female. According to her mother, long ago a Fae lord had bred with a human lords daughter. The produced half-breed child was the start of the guardian line.

The bloodline was by far diluted since then, and Aisling doubted that any of her children would show magical potential. She kind of failed at a lot of things, and magic was one of them. Don't get me wrong a few sparks, she could do... But summon winds or storms? Like one of her sisters did... She didn't manage it too well. In fact when it came to fighting, she failed even harder at that then magic. Her ten year old sister often kicked Aisling's ass in training.

Not something the female was very proud of. Slowly she stood up and pocketed the small baggy of herbs. She was a slim woman, she was about twenty years of age, and seemed to stand at around 5'4''. Her form was slim and compact muscle, built like a combination of a runner and dancer. She trained, oh did she train to fight, but that didn't stop her from failing in the actual situations. So far she had only managed to have very lucky accidents. Like just last week when she killed a vampire.. with a pencil.

Aisling's head hung for a moment,a s her brown eyes sparked with anger. Why was it, she the 'Fae Guardian' was so horrible at doing her work? Sure she helped the Fullblooded, or Purebloods as some call them, slip into society. She helped them understand and fully comprehend the situation they where stepping into. Her head tilted down further as her eyes started to mist with tears. But as hard as she tried she knew she would continue to be the failure her father claimed her to be.

She tried hard to fight as the females in her mothers family had for decades. But she just didn't seem to have the powers they had, she was different. Where as they where all strong and beautiful, she was short and earthy. She had brown hair and eyes, and an alltogether not curvy form at all. Even people at school had noticed the difference between her and her sisters. Her sisters got attention, Aisling had just been ignored.

She roughly pushed her glasses back up her nose, her teeth grating as her anger mounted. Her hand came up and pressed to the mark on the back of her neck, where shoulder and neck met. it was a small mark, only about the size of a quarter. It was a beige imperial crown, it's three points clearly defined. It wasn't burning yet, which meant she hadn't any work to do today.

The frost was coming, winter was on the horizon and soon she would have to return to a cold home. Her family was always there for her yes, but her sisters where braggarts. She was well aware that Claire would have made a better guardian. She pushed her hair back and then snapped the just shoulder-blade length locks into a tight ponytail. She tugged on it viciously and shook her head, trying to shake away the tears.

She was in Guardian Forest, the place where most Fae came into the human world through. She rubbed her hands on her jeans, and then pulled her loose windbreaker over her form closer. She sighed and walked towards the small clearing that she usually came to, came to clear her mind. At the center was the convergence of trees that made a portal between the worlds. She collapsed to her knees and just pressed her forehead to her knees. Silence, she needed this calm, this near meditative state. That's when it hit her, why she was such a failure...

Because the god's hated her...
 
Tugging on heavy, black boots, he meticulously tucks the bottoms of his black jeans into the footwear before pulling the lacing taunt, strings biting into pale flesh leaving white lines in their wake. Tapered fingers deftly tie graceful knots, securing the shoes in place before the male shifts his weight, standing up from the foot of the bed. As he stands, silver hair settles as it will about his body, a fair amount slipping over his shoulders to fall against his bare chest, threatening to get caught in the barbells running through each nipple.

Frost runs a hand through his long locks, forcing every strand back into it's proper place, a shimmering cascade of silver against his tattooed back. The image was hard to make out, few rarely caught more than a glimpse of the inked artwork. Which was a good thing, it's very nature was rather strange for a full blooded fae. It was done in all black pigment, a stark contrast to his lily white skin, and was made to look as if most of his flesh had been torn off, revealing bloody cogs, an elaborate work of machinery lying just beneath his skin. Of course, everyone knew that fae magic and metal just...well, they didn't mix well. But that was the beauty of it, at least, in his mind. Besides, with hair falling down to his ass, it was well hidden from prying eyes.

Rather youthful given his full blooded status within the Dark Court, aged only 200 or some years, he had the trim body of a male just hitting adulthood, he could pass for anything between 19-23, depending on the eye. Occasionally younger, but that wolfish smile of his rarely gave anyone the idea of youthful innocence. Which was good, as Frost was far from innocent. And not only was he trouble incarnate, he was bored.

Having just gotten permission to travel over to the human world and play for a while, he saw no reason to delay his vacation. After all, if the Queen got word of just WHO they'd be sending over to play human, well she may very well revoke his approval. He doubted that she had forgotten the ruckus he had stirred up not too long ago, luring several ladies all into his bed within the same night, setting up the times just right so that they'd all arrive at this secret rendezvous at the same time. He had no doubt that several of them had fun regardless of his absence, but a few were not pleased with his games. The Queen included.

He was a handsome devil. That was probably the only reason his behavior was tolerated within the courts. He had an angular face, sharp features, delicate, but still masculine. Deeply blue eyes with a much lighter blue rim around the pupil. A cupid's bow of kissable, soft pink lips. Straight, white teeth to form his notorious, mischievous grin. And like most fae, he was toned, but not the muscle man sort of guy. Lithe, graceful, and with hair any human would kill for, especially given it's exotic color.

Strolling through the labyrinth that composed of his life long home, he ponders on just what to do first when he got across. Assuming, that is, he could skirt the Guardian for a few hours in the very least. Frost could appreciate that she was just there to do her job, but man, a guide always crimps a man's style. At the very least, he had heard some encouraging words. Apparently, while she wasn't up to the Seeliegh stamp of approval, this Guardian was rather attractive. So maybe having to deal with her wouldn't be all bad, he ponders, getting that impish grin of his.

The portal was tucked off to the side, down one of the many winding trails within the den, and as he slips in, closing the door behind him with a click, the guard turns, and nods. "Evening, I heard you would be coming through. Might want to consider a shirt though, it's chilly on the other side," the larger fae murmurs, being rather sociable. Poor guy probably didn't get much company.

Frost gives him a thoughtful smile before making the temperature in the room drop to a comfortable chill. "I imagine I'll be fine, but I do appreciate your concern," he replies with a cocky laugh, walking right through the portal. The poor guard was about to suggest some luggage as well. But oh well, the damn kid would figure it out, he figured, shaking his head.

On the other side, Frost was rather disappointed. It was indeed a bit more to his liking, temperature wise, but the very nature seemed...less friendly. But to his surprise, the first thing he noted was a girl, prostrate on the ground. As if in worship. He couldn't help the curl of his lips as he took a few strides towards the little brunette, his shadow falling over her smaller form. "Well now, I didn't know I'd be greeted with a servant. Yes, yes, Girl. I know, you're in awe, but really, get up off the dirt. Unless, well, you like it that way," he adds, the perverse implications of those words not lost on his tone.
 
Her job was upon her again, the familiar burn seared through her being. Except this time it was more then just a burn, it was a like a deep cold had settled into her very being. A gasp of pain laced through her hand, clutching unto the crown mark that was now blazing with an odd green tone. But that tone faded from green to pale blue, and then vanished as the man was before her. She shuddered, his voice making chills reach through her body and play in parts of her mind and form... that previously had not been played with.

She knew what arousal was, that is what was touching her in places that hadn't been touched by any mortal hand but her own. No immortal hand had grazed upon it either. She made it quite clear to the fae that came across, that she was not a sexual creature. She shuddered, ignoring his words and then slowly getting up. Her head tilting back and fire snapping in the depths of warm brown eyes. Her hands clenched at her side as her hand came up and she wiped away the trace amounts of tears on her cheeks.

But more shimmered there on the surface, it was still a cold searing pain in her being. The presence of his magic near her mark. Why did it hurt so much, just to be near him? She shuddered again then, cold racing across her flesh. Her nipples tightened harshly, the metal loops in their tips becoming cold as well. This only made the cold even more so obvious as she was wearing only a sports bra beneath her shirt.

Her eyes narrowed as she put her hands on her hips, tilting her head back to try and stare him in the face. Her eyes glared even harder as she stared at the male. Then her eyes widened, pale lips parting as she realized exactly what was facing her. "Frost..." She whispered as she back stepped. She knew this Fae Legend, knew all of the Legends inside and out. While the other Fae she was just supposed to help, the Legends she had to personally care for. Because it was a 'Legend' of a Fae Lord, that had sired her bloodline. Not the Killing Frost, another of the old ones.

She shifted her arm and bowed at the waist, containing her anger at his words. "Welcome to the Mortal Coil, Lord Frost." She said in a soft voice. Then straightened, "Follow me please... Identification and money will be provided for you, once we leave the forest." She said softly. Once she left the forest, maybe the damnable bone deep chill would leave her? Thank the goddess her shirt was baggy, otherwise the fact that she was cold would be obvious. She pushed her glasses up nervously and ignored the feelings coursing through her. The Guardian was Asexual, until such a time as she found her soulmate and continued the line.
 
Not a complete dolt, he noticed her reach for her shoulder, clinging to it as if in agony. Well damn, not even a moment's peace. Here was the Guardian. Letting out a deep, disappointed sigh, he jams his hands back in his pockets, as if playing the part of the sullen boy. Mother had caught him before he even got close the cookie jar.

She at least had a pretty face, and not even those thick glasses could hide the sparks in her brown eyes. If she had more fae blood, he had no doubt she'd be a flaming red head, and that he'd be a little bit uncomfortable at the moment. Those fire fae gals, my goodness. No sense of humor. Which had left him with a few scorch marks here and there, and cost him a favorite shirt. But luckily, this girl didn't seem to have that capability, seeing as he wasn't sweating, even though she had teared up. That's never a good sign.

Oh, she was undoubtedly pissed. The stiff way she bows, the hostility in her welcome. He chuckles, a deep, throaty sound as he treads behind her in contemplative silence. He could easily ditch this girl whenever he so pleased, but he'd be best to do that after he got the necessities of this human realm.

Not to mention, this was a fae girl that he could tease and taunt without any real consequences. That had to have some appeal. Vaguely, he noted that she was struggling with the cold, and with a devious grin, he thought of all the ways he could tease her with that. Of course, it wouldn't be very polite to do most of those things at this very moment. But he had no qualms with quickening his stride to place him next to her, his normal aura of chill enveloping her.
 
Aisling's eyes narrowed as the male followed her. Damn Fae Lords and their urge for mortal pleasantries, couldn't they just stay in their world and leave her home to her? She didn't have an elegant and grand home. Just a small studio apartment with three rooms to it. Her living room that was her bedroom as well, her bathroom, and her kitchen. Goddess damn the Fae Lord Frost, and his need to visit the mortal coil. She twisted her hand, and pulled the one item she was proficient with from her pocket. She snapped open the small pocket knife, and snapped it closed.

The snicking sound of metal was heard as she tried to work out her annoyance. Those eyes of his, she could feel them on her form. Now she was damn glad she wore as form fitting of clothing as she did! How dare he, how dare he stare at her form in such a manner. She wasn't your typical run of the mill human, or was he looking because of that? Because she didn't even have enough fae in her to make proper sparks. She pushed her glasses up in annoyance and continued to walk.

Just her luck, her apartment was in the first set, just after she left the forest. She walked straight into the complex, and tried to ignore the whispers of her neighbors. They thought she was a gigolo or something. With all these rather attractive males that came with her from the forest. This was by far the most lovely of all the males that had come from the woods with her. She shivered faintly and tilted her head back as she turned her head towards the male that had stepped up beside her.

His chilly presence enveloped her being, as the arousal returned. She glared only faintly, but did her best to hide it. "I have the identification papers in my home, you are lucky the military acknowledges my families Guardianship over the Fae, otherwise I would be in prison for making your I.D. for this world." She stated as she pulled the key from her pocket, putting her pocket knife in it's place. She opened the door and held open the door so he could step in.

She slammed the door as soon as she was sure he was in, and locked it. Kicking off her boots after undoing the laces, and then walking towards the kitchen. "I'll put your age over twenty-one so you can go tot he bars if you so chose. " She stated as she sat down at the kitchen counter, she opened her laptop and began to put in the information to make Frost exist in this world. "What name do you want your ID to say?"
 
Every little click was obnoxiously loud, or perhaps it was just fae-kind's inclination to be very, very aware of metals around them. It wasn't that they were fatal, by any chance. But they were weakened by the presence of too much metal ores, and a wound made from metal tended to sting that much more. And all immortals didn't enjoy being reminded that they aren't really immortal.

It was a remarkably short walk from the enclosure of woods and trees that held the portal to his world to her little corner of civilization. But he had a feeling that was intentional. The Guardian would have to live close the portal, and it would be difficult to immerse the visitors properly if there was nothing around. As they strolled through the complex, Frost was not oblivious to the eyes on his form, and with a cheeky grin, he winks at one of Aisling's more attractive neighbors.

The pale man listens to the shorter woman's complaints, just barely refraining from rolling his eyes. He slips in before she shuts the door, and makes himself comfortable, leaning against the counter top. A faint smile on pink lips, he watches her every movement, curiously so as she starts to fiddle with the laptop. Fae world had it's fair share of electronics, but he hadn't had a chance to play with any of it, just yet.

But at the question, his cockiness seems to falter. "What's wrong with my name?" he inquires, narrowing deep blue eyes on the tiny girl, as if offended. "And just so you know, I didn't ask you to make anything for me. I didn't give you your lot in life, so don't bitch at me for having to do your god damned job," he snips, crossing his arms across his bare chest, muscles moving sleekly under pale skin.
 
Aisling pushed her glasses up again, her annoyance showing on her features. "Fine... Jack Frost it is..." She stated as she rolled her eyes lightly. She worked on inputting all the other information and then put the special paper in to the printer attached to the laptop. It sucked them up and then printed out all the papers needed, and then she turned towards getting his ID laminated. "I made you an at home birth, here is the papers with yours human history. The history you have to go by while here. Please memorize and do your best to follow it." She stated as she stood up.

She turned towards the kitchen, and tried to forget the thick arousal that was slipping through her bloodstream. She shuddered faintly to herself and pushed her glasses back up again. She was really not enjoying the sensations pulsing through her. Not something she was used to, to say in the least. Arousal was not a feeling that she had felt before, and the fact that Frost was effecting her so heavily, was not weighing well on her mind. She shook her head as she approached the cabinets and pulled out a few items.

She would make a quick meal, something easy. Pulling out all the supplies needed to make a sandwhich, she turned and did so. Once it was done she rested it on the counter. "While you eat, I am taking a shower." She stated simply as she walked into the living room and pulled out some clean clothes from her drawers. Then turned to walk past him, to get herself towards the bathroom door behind him.
 
Frost watched her movements with curiosity, as she darts around the kitchen, making his papers, a sandwich despite the fact that he hadn't expressed any interest. And the deranged woman had the audacity to tell him what to do. And just moments later, before he could even process why she had made the sandwich, she was across the room, gathering up a change for her shower. The girl needed to stand still for two moments. Something she had not done since he had made his presence known. And he was about to fix that.

As she attempted to brush past him, he shifted just enough to throw her off balance, aiming to send her careening into the wall. But as if to save her from this perilous tumble, he gently grasps her shoulder, pulling her against him, the other hand moving to drape around her waist, in a polite way. No inappropriate contact, just her body pressed against his abdomen, given her smaller stature. Blue eyes gaze down at Aisling, a wry grin on his lips.

"Slow down, Guardian," he advises her, his movements fluid, languid, gracefully precise as he settles her back on her feet and slips away to eat the sandwich that she had so graciously made for him.
 
Brown eyes widened as she found herself thrown off-balance. That damn fae had tripped her! She damn well knew it! She glared at him as he pulled her against her. his hands on her shoulders. He had an arm around her waist, and though she knew it wasn't meant to be impolite... she swore she could feel that chill burrowing deep into her bones. There was a low sound, a mixture between a pleased sound and a moan, that she caught half-way up her throat.

She glared at him faintly as he slowly released her. She could still feel the chill of him. Even as he let her back unto her feet. "I will tell you this once, do no touch me... ever..." She stated in a low voice. WHy did she have a feeling she would be repeating this time and time again. "I'll be back in thirty minutes... If you absolutely need anything else, knock on the door." She growled out softly.

She knew it would be more efficient to share the shower with him. It would cut down on the water use, but she damn well wanted a HOT shower. The chill of him was tightening her in so many places.
 
The anger shown amused her to no end. As if she was some threat to him, even with her hostile words. After all, she was the Guardian. Her job was to keep harm from coming to him, not to cause it. And he had a distinct feeling that those words were hollow. If she really meant him any ill will, his cheek would have a sting to it at the very least. That didn't bode well for her.

As if reading her mind, he shifts his weight, that mischievous grin only serving to grow. "What if I want a shower?" he inquires, quirking a sculpted brown, placing the uneaten half of the sandwich down on the plate. Of course, he wasn't expecting any such exposure, but hell, if she wanted to give him such bait, he couldn't resist.
 
Aisling's hand braced on the doorknob to the bathroom. Her breath catching in her lungs as she tilted her head down. Her shoulders shaking as she turned back towards the living room. "Then I will get a bathing suit, so that it can be shared. Unless you wish to bath alone." She stated in a firm tone. Making it quite obvious to him, that nudity was not something she shared with the fae. But wait, damnit her bathingsuit was trashed thanks to a friend... and she didn't ahve anything for a shower then.

She growled beneath her breath and ran her hand back through her hair. "If you want one alone tell me, if youprefer to preserve water, you better keep your eyes to yourself..." She snarled at him lightly. Turning on her heel and ripping open the bathroom door. "Towels are on that shelf, there is herbal based shampoos if you wanted." She stated as she shook her head a little and then left her stuff on the toilet. "All up to you"
 
While he may be a tease, Frost didn't enjoy taking what is not offered. "Come, let us share water. The humans waste enough as it is, from what I understand," he murmurs, trying hard to suppress that grin as he bends at the hip and the knees, unlacing the boots, kicking them off easily enough near the counter. He slips past her, keeping a sliver of space free, to avoid contact purposefully.

Once inside the bathroom, he unbuttons his pants, pushing them down off his form, stepping out of the easily, his back to her, his round bottom just barely visible beneath the tips of his long locks. The tiny woman probably didn't realize that she had given him a challenge. One he sought to win, if there could be such an option. No looking, that he could do if she so wished. But would that request win out over any woman's basic desire to be appreciated in such a situation.

Gracefully stepping into the shower, he cranks the water on, setting it to it's hottest in effort to counter-act what little bit of his chill he couldn't actually disengage. But for the most part, he let his bubble of cold drop away. His understanding was that cold and dampness didn't mix well for humans, and Aisling was close enough that he didn't want to risk her health just for his amusement. Well, that and the chill was always more entertaining when it was a stark contrast.
 
Aisling shuddered as she watched him go past. She stepped into the restroom, and waited silently as he undressed. She herself took a few moments, and just shook her head. She didn't care if he looked honestly, not as if she was much to look at anyways. The cooler air caused her already tight nipples to get worse. Her pierced nipples hardening quite a bit more then she wished.

She tried not to look at him, really she did try. But she couldn't help but admire that pale and lean frame. Her eyes skittered to the side as she walked passed him. Glad he had turned it up so high. From there she unbraided her hair and then stepped into the spray. She only needed to wash her hair, and body, and then she could leave. Unfortunately relaxing wasn't on this showers agenda.

Her eyes skittered to the side as she snatched up one of her bottles of Shampoo, soaking her hair completely. She kept her back to him, but she swore she could feel his close presence. Her mind running in curious circles, as she wondered exactly what he looked like.

She shuddered faintly and scrubbed the shampoo through her hair. The scent of vanilla and something cool... Mint... villed the air. Mint always reminded her of winter for some reason. Ironic since Frost was in her shower.
 
Keeping his eyes on the wall, he could sense where the woman was, based on warmth alone. Seeing as she had slipped out of the stream of water, he steps backwards and into the flow of hot water, letting it soak through his thick locks. It would take a while for his hair to be soaked through if he just stood there, so instead he lifted up the mess of silver, holding it up into the spray. This of course, exposed his muscular back and the full image forever tattooed into his flesh. A rare sight for most.

The shower was much more boring than it could be. Damn prude and her rules. Taking the fun out of everything. Holding a hand out behind him, he asks as politely as he could, "Shampoo, please?"
 
Aisling turned, watching him as he stepped into the spray. He was soaking his hair now, and holy mother goddess. That was a gorgeous, gorgeous tattoo. His frame was so lean and well formed. She shivered faintly, and made a small sound when he demanded the shampoo. Snapping out of her mind frame she gasped faintly and nodded. "Oh yes, sure..." She said as she passed it to him. Idiot, she was she took a step forward and unto a bar of soap.

Her world shifted, as a burble of shock left her. Her hands went out, arms wrapping around the nearest solid thing. That being Frost's waist. Her arms wrapped around it, and her body hung just a little bit. Her hands, her hands where on his... his... Oh gods she was getting a handful of his manhood! Her cheeks flamed with bright color, as she stared ahead faintly, shock filling her features as she tried to regain her composure. Well... fuck.
 
The poor thing was not handling being in the shower very well. He could feel her react, warm at just the sight of him. Made him wonder how the girl managed her needs, if she did at all for that matter. It could be a lack of male interest. She had a gorgeous figure, cute, spunky. Maybe to the point of being a bitch, but hell, even bitches need some loving and could be quite fun in bed if given the chance. Smirking at that squeak of a sound, he takes the shampoo, but didn't get a chance to use it.

Next thing he knew, Aisling had in essence thrown herself at him, arms around his hips, cheek against his side, palm against his penis. Grunting with restraint, he clutches at the shampoo bottle, eyes closed to the more....aggressive impulses. "Not fair. I can't look and yet you can touch. If you're not going to do anything with that, I suggest you keep your hands off," he practically growls, doing his best to keep a straight face.
 
Aisling turned quite a bright red, as her hand spasmed for a moment. Her teeth ground and she yanked away. Foot coming back down on said offending bar of soap. Which caused her to slip again this time backwards. Barely catching her balance, and now putting soaking wet hair into her eyes.

Damnit, now her wrists hurt, AND she couldn't see. She growled as she stared ahead of her. She could feel her legs now splayed around the edges of his. Meaning if he turned and crouched he was straddling her. She blinked rapidly, and pushed her hair away, panting for breath. "Mother goddess, I hate SOAP!" She growled softly.
 
Turning on his heel, he looks down at her, giving her a quizzical look as his eyes scan her sprawled form. Giving her a wolfish grin, he turns his back on her, starting to lather up his hair. "You know, that's quite a nice picture. But you're going to try harder than that," he mutters with a laugh. Of course, it was tempting. But he wouldn't have her turn it against him later. If she wanted sex, she was going to have to make it expressly clear, lest she could complain later that he had pillaged her unwilling form or any such nonsense.
 
Damnit that fae man, damn him! Turning around he looked down at her, and got a nice view of her usually hidden form. A blush creeping across her further, as she gasped faintly. She jumped up and turned her back on him, and started to lather up for the conditioner. Then grabbing that traitorous soap from the floor. She bit her lip, and shook her head a little. Biting it harder as she coughed faintly. "I have no idea of what you speak. " She whispered.

Gods her body was craving to feel what those hands would feel like. WHY!?! Why was she craving it, what could possibly make the usual asexual guardian, be drawn to the Killing Frost. She bit her lip harder and sighed softly as she rinsed her hair out and then started to wash her body. She would be leaving soon, she had to get outta here soon. She bit her lip a little harder and shuddered. Her nipples where harder then hell, and her body was weeping and crying for touches.

She was so tempted to touch herself, but she knew it wasn't wise. She sighed and slumped her shoulders a little, sighing softly.
 
Still chuckling to himself, he held his head under the water, feeling the suds of shampoo glide down his legs and away. Having such long hair was truly a pain. But then the stigma of short hair in the Fae Realm was absolutely dreadful. Even he wasn't about to go against that tradition. "Oh, I think you know what I'm talking about," he murmurs in a sleak, rumbling voice, smoothing a hand through that mass of silver, coaxing more shampoo out.

"Care to give me a hand? Tending to this much hair is troublesome," he says, head still tilted back in the spray of hot water. Of course, he could manage on his own, even though he normally did have assistance with his hair. But there was an ulterior motive to this. The girl was so riled up, and he was asking her to touch him. To interact with him. For all he knew, it could drive her over the edge.
 
Aisling bit her lip and hard at that. She was so close to being done and getting out of the shower. But he needed help apparently. She sighed and tilted her head down, and then looked up again. She stared at him and then stepped closer. Biting her lower lip now and slowly stroking her hands through his hair. Little jolts going through her as she did.

It was lovely hair, hair to be envious of. Like tinsel it was such a bright silver it made her shiver for some reason. It was so lovely, and even with the shampoo it still seemed to have it's own sort of smell to it. Why was it there was things about him that drove her completely insane? Why did he drive her nuts, and over the edge?

Why was she wanting to have him... Oh GODDESS that was NOT an image she needed in her mind!
 
Feeling hands go through his hair, Frost even forgets his ploy in being in the shower with this girl, relaxing entirely. The sensation was always so thoroughly enjoyed. Letting a rumble go through his chest, rather like a purr, his vibrantly blue eyes drift shut, warm water running along paled flesh and down the drain, carrying with it the shampoo that she knocked loose. Faintly, he was aware that Aisling was getting enjoyment of just this slight physical contact, and he could probably put that to use. A, you'll scratch my back, I'll scratch yours, only turn scratch into scrub and see where it leads.

Pondering this with a lazy mind, he chuckles a bit before actually speaking such idea aloud. "While you're back there, mind scrubbing my back? I'll return the favor, if you want," he offers, doing his best to sound like a perfect gentleman.
 
Aisling's mind wandered, pleasant thoughts flittering through the Guardian's mind. All she wanted to do was rub herself in that hair, that soft natural scent it had all it's own. The chilly sensation that his energy naturally caused with her. Despite the heat of the shower, she found herself feeling even hotter. More then that she felt something filling her that was probably not a wise idea. The signs were not good, she didn't deserve a Fae Lord as the father of her children. That was the ONLY way that a Guardian reacted sexually, was to continue the line.

She was plain, she was magicless (prettymuch), and she was not exactly what would be called a good catch. She was startled a little when he spoke, and her response was a soft nod and an affirmative sound. So lost was she in the task. Her hand picked up the soap and the cloth she used for washing. With that she slowly lathered up the clothe and slid it across the planes of his bank. Well muscles, all around, he was perfection. While she... she was not.
 
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