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Magical Birthright (UK_Rp_guy x Frogger)

Ada sat down as he told her to, eyes wide. The commanding tone was definitely unexpected. Never before did the man use such a tone...at least, not towards her. However, rather than being upset by it...she couldn’t help but be...well, aroused, by the idea of him using it...in a different scenario. When she realized where her thoughts were heading, she blushed dark crimson, forcing her eyes onto the table. “I-I agree...We should talk...but won’t the bacon get burned? The coffee is almost done, too...not to mention the eggs and all… Why don’t we...wait until all the food is done, and on the table…? We can talk while we’re eating… I think that would...be best...don’t you?” Her hands buried in her lap, she tried not to raise her head, so that he won’t see the blush that was surely on her face. How embarrassing...I’m… I’m getting...wet between my legs...

“H-How about I help with the orange juice? Last time I checked, it’s almost done...or is it already? I don’t know… I was taking care of the coffeepot…” Now standing up, she flashed a smile in his direction, an apologetic one, before going to look. “Ah...The coffee is still brewing...but the orange juice is done! Why don’t I make us a couple glasses? I rather like that idea…” Quickly she reached up, finding a couple glasses in the cabinet he told her earlier, taking two down. Her bathrobe did much of what it did...except, this time...it revealed quite a bit more leg...and it tightened across her firm butt more than it did just five minutes ago.

Dark brown fell against her cheek, drops of water trickling down the curve of her neck. Ada shakily poured two glasses of orange juice, careful not to spill any...and careful not to meet his gaze. What is he going to tell me…? That such a relationship is wrong? Forbidden? Taboo? I already know all that… I just can’t help...imagining scenarios, where we are...making love… or kissing...or anything, for that matter… There is no need to tell me that it’s wrong to think such things...
 
he watched her sit and talk at a thousand words a minute, her concious thoughts flowing from her lips as she tried to process the information. he was not angry and this was for the best he considered, he had not intended to use the command as forcefully as he did but he had been blind sided by the admission from his daughter and his natural instinct to take control had kicked in. He selected the plates and realised she had moved to help with the breakfast, so gingerly moving about and careful with the orange juice, holding the glass while pouring it out, it looked little a little girl trying to help, she must be really shaken by this and scared of me, he concludes.

He can see her from the corner of his eye, as he moves the bacon from the pan to the plates and places the scrambled egg to the side. its a quiet kitchen, just the moment of the utensils, the sounds of the coffee machine burbling away and the whisper of the gown as it rubs along her skin showing the curves and folders of her body as it does. he tastes his lips again and carries the plates over to the wooden table at the centre of the room. a crash breaks the silence as the toast seems to make an extraordinary loud noise to announce the thick white bread has been browned.

He fetches the toast on a separate plate and butter fresh and bright yellow, each food item perfectly cooked, he sits and looks at her. his fork in his left hand and the knife in the right, eating in his traditional English style.
"you see what you said to me makes sense.. it makes sense in the context of our fmily and the history that we have." he spears some bacon and eats it chewing slowly and thoughtfully. "one of the reasions i wanted here
 
“Uh...I don’t...quite...understand…” Ada admitted. “Don’t get me wrong, I know what you said, just… What does our family history have to do with...how I’ve been feeling? I also want to ask you something, just off topic...that is, if you can answer…” After taking a sip of her coffee...though mostly as liquid courage, she held onto the mug...their eyes meeting, right over the rim. “Please don’t say it sounds crazy, or anything like that...cause I know what I felt earlier. Before I, um...Before we...found ourselves pressed together...with my robe halfway off...I know I felt hands on my back…pushing me towards you… Do you mind explaining that? Cause I know one thing for sure...and that is, I didn’t imagine it…” Her words growing quiet, she took a nibble at bacon.

What am I saying? I sound...insane, delusional! There is no way that ghostly apparitions are here...pushing me into my father, and tugging at my bathrobe! First of all, if ghosts -or spirits- did exist...why would they do such a thing? Second of all...why would there be ghosts here, of all places? I understand that Witherby Hall has been in Daddy’s family for many generations... No one has...been killed here...or died before it was their time… right? That is usually what ghosts are...I believe. Ghosts are usually people who died...and who still have a purpose on this earth… Wait...why...why am I even thinking about this? Ghosts don’t exist!

Ada stirred her coffee, watching the dark liquid swirl...until it was no longer a dark brown, but light. “There’s also the issue of...how I felt, whenever I came up to that painting...of Rowan Witherby, my great-great grandmother, I think. Why is it...when I looked at her portrait...it felt as though...she was actually looking back at me? That the painting is somehow...alive? That’s impossible, I know that much...but that still doesn’t explain the strange feeling I got earlier…”

With a sigh she raised her eyes, the brown pair meeting his. “I know I must sound crazy… Delusional, even… but I know how I felt, while standing next to you...and when I was looking at Rowan’s portrait. There is almost a...a supernatural feeling about this place, and it’s just… It’s getting out of hand.” Ada shook her head, wet brown locks flying every which way, until finally settling down on either side of her face. “Don’t worry...I’m not scared of you, not in the least...but I am afraid of the feelings I’ve been having towards you.”
 
He chews thoughtfully and swallows, his fork placed on the plate as he looks up his green eyes fixing hers. "it is out family history that gives us these gifts and that is why you can feel such things." He sips his coffee,wondering where to begin and decides to explain this morning first, history lessons can wait for another day and he needs to get to a point where she understands this house, the spirits within and thee payment that is extracted for it.

"Firstly... you are a witch, you have magic and you have power that most in this world do not possess or even realise exists..." he smiles and awaits that to just stay there between them for a moment." the family is blessed or some say cursed with such power and has been for generations. you feel the strangeness here because of the spirits that reside here, Rowan was one of the most powerful of the family and it seems she has chosen you and taken a keen interest in you"

"so there were hands of a sort on you and proppelling you to me, it is them being impatient and wanting things to be ummm completed. there are no ghosts here as such, just family spirits of our witches who watch and advise and it seems meddle from time to time."

he picks up his fork and lifts some scrambled egg to his mouth, eating slowly he wonders how this news will be taken by the vision before him, he mentioned the price for such power but he wonders if she has any idea what that is and what the bargain made over 400 years ago requires from them. he chews and realises he is looking forward to it, she is so vibrant and beautiful, he can barely keep his mind from what he wants to do to her and by the sounds of it they will do with one with passion and desire.
 
Ada met his gaze evenly, listening to his words. What gifts is he talking about? There is no way I have any kind of gift...that allows me to feel such things, I am simply being delusional...or, more likely, there is a logical explanation behind everything. After taking a sip of her coffee...and then taking another, she set the mug down...only to start eating the breakfast laid out. If a crazy story will be told over breakfast...she might as well eat what she can, before calling in the asylum.

Wait… Wait just a second. What did he just say? That I’m a witch? Ada paused mid-bite, mouth dropping open once her mind processed the information he just gave. I have magic… and I have power that most in this world do not possess or even realize exists…? Our family is blessed with such power...or cursed, and has been for generations…? Rowan is just one of the spirits that resides here, and now she’s taken a keen interest in me…? No way… It isn’t possible. I’m just a normal teenager… There is no such thing as magic...and there’s absolutely nothing magical about me….

Oh, and he’s now blaming the incident on ‘spirits propelling me towards him’... That’s just great. I’m really going to need the number for an asylum… Ada didn’t say a word, instead finishing the bite she had in her mouth, and working on the rest of her food. A few strands of wet brown hair fell against her cheek...the tips leaking water, which trickled down the skin towards her chin. From there, each drop collected...until finally, it would fall onto her breasts, right on top.

“So what you’re saying…” Ada finally spoke up, “is that our family is of the magical sort, and for generations… There are spirits living within this house, and now Rowan, your great-grandmother...my great-great grandmother...has taken an interest in me...and is trying to push us together? Is that what you’re saying?” Her voice positively dripped in disbelief, and her eyes didn’t rise up from her plate, not for one moment. Obviously she didn’t believe a word he just said...and was expecting a new answer...one that actually made sense...or at least, in her mind make sense.
 
He saw the disbelief there and the uncertainty in her eyes, after all a man she has not seen for years, is explaining a few odd sensations and experiences with claims of witchcraft and spirits fro hundreds of years ago. He had expected resistance to the idea that she was magical and gifted, after all the mundane world had enforced al the stories of magic and witchcraft were just that, to hear from someone all those were just a smoke screen to disguise true power must be a shock, an earth shattering world changing shock.

"ok I can see you dont believe me or think I am messing about with you....I guess in this situation actions speak louder than words and may help with a demonstration." He looks at her and considers the moment, certainly nothing scary or dangerous, he is trying to convince her not scare the crap out of her, alternatively he needs to be dramatic enough that she recognises qas impossible not some silly slight of hand trick that any street performer or las vegas impresario would do.

he calls two oranges to him from the bowl at the side counter, firing like bullets into his open hands, caught perfectly without effort as if the orange was always there. "there are lots of types of magic, but each has a price, i could call a demon and bind it to me but that is well too risky this time in the morning and ive been driving all night. I could manifest a dead spirit but again, they expect something in return, there are forms of magic that are so subtle you would have no idea what was happening or some so extreme they require sacrifice and blood or other things- again I have a rule on those..." he grins as she looks at him with curiosity regarding the rule "not before breakfast"

He holds the oranges in his palms, inviting close inspection as one slowly shrinks and turns green as if unripening and returning to the blossom of its origin, the other aging and growing until it slowly turns darker, the fruit inside rotting and the skin splitting to show the now withered fruit. Standing wordlessly he moves over and offers them for inspection to prove no trickery.
 
“Of course I don’t believe you…” Ada sighed, one hand rubbing at her temple. Did he really think she would, right off the bat? There is no such thing as magic...never has, and never will be. Magic is nothing but a fairy tale parents told their children, in order to keep their imaginations alive… However, she is a young woman, and there really is no need to keep up with such pretenses. He just had to be messing with her head… All this was just a huge joke...right? It just...It just had to be… Or else, she was going to need her phone to make a few calls...

Ada lifted her eyes, disbelief still whirling within the brown depths. The moment dragged on… silence making its mark by making it awkward and tense. There was obviously something going on in his mind… maybe he’s rethinking his words? Maybe he’s questioning everything he just said...and now he’s about to take it back? Expecting it, she leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. Of course...she just had to see the bacon laying on that plate… so invitingly...so she reached out for a piece, biting into it with relish. A moan almost bubbled up her throat...but she kept it down.

Two oranges flew through the air, firing like bullets into his open hands...which he caught without any effort. Ada jerked into an upright position from the shock. Her dark brown eyes as big as saucers, she swallowed the lump in her throat that has all of a sudden formed. That did not...just happen… I did not just see two orange fly through the air… Huh…? Did he just say something about...a demon? No way… Her eyes drifting back up towards him, she tuned in while he talked about summoning a dead spirit. Curiosity rose, unbidden. “What…? All this talk about magic...and sacrifice, and blood… You can’t be serious… You just...You can’t really be serious with all this… You can just...quit with this sick joke...Haha...I’m laughing now, so you can quit…”

Ada shook her head, not believing her eyes, even though she knew it couldn’t be an illusion. One began to shrink...turning green as if unripening and returning to the blossom of its origin, while the other aging...growing until it slowly turned darker… the fruit inside rotting, the skin splitting to show the withered inside. “N-No… No way…” came her response, leaning away from the fruit he offered. There was disbelief and fear warring within her eyes...making itself evident.
 
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