[i][quote=William Goldman, 'The Princess Bride'][h3]“Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.”[/h3][/quote][/i]

[center][img]http://i845.photobucket.com/albums/ab20/XxKayla36xX/Trixy.png[/img][/center]

Bartholomew was a surprisingly respectful gentleman, as his gaze remained fixed on her face, despite her blatant display of courtesan charm. Perhaps he didn’t know that his soul mate once ran brothels in France, and that she had never met - nor desired - a man that could [i]truly[/i]  be deemed ‘gentle’. Regardless of his supposed self-control, something in the way she moved or spoke caused his switch to flip. 

[i]“Actions always speak louder than words.”[/i]  The low timbre of his voice sent shivers down her spine as he punctuated the sentence with a kiss.  Had her heart still beat, it would be hammering in her chest. His lips were overwhelming. His scent felt like comfort, like pine trees and freshly fallen snow, sunshine and grass, all at once. He made her feel alive, and not like the cold, hard, bitch she had become, whose life was saturated in blood. Blood in her mouth and blood on her hands. Blood… the unbidden image of her lover splayed before her, heart torn out, flashed in her mind. But his face wasn’t framed with the usual blond curls as in the nightmares of her past, instead the locks were brown and the face was peppered with stubble.

Trixy pulled back from the kiss, knocking over the chair as she jumped backwards out of it. She glared over at him as if he had done something as brash as slapping her across the face. Her fists were balled at her sides and her chest rose and fell with rapid pants of unnecessary breathing. Would it always feel this way? Like fire and ice.

“I--- I--- ” Her crystalline eyes darted around the room, landing anywhere but on him. She couldn’t trust herself to look at him and not do something stupid out of desire. There were far less complicated ways to quench this thirst… 

“I can’t do this. I have to go.” She said before flitting away in a blur of vampiric speed. The rustling of the curtains in the breeze, and the firing up of her bike’s engine were the only evidence of her abrupt departure, leaving Tholo alone at the table with two steaming cups of coffee.