Two black eyes glittering at her from above a world of teeth; when Tatsumiya opens the window, she gets a slightly different view than what she's used to.
Sometimes, she spends entire days on the inside. If the queen is engaged, and the errands are small ones oversee-able by others; she can drift the halls in quietude to her liking, but by the end of the day, she is longing for the freshness of a long walk, but settles for the inflow of an open pane. And sometimes, the stars align, and there is no one in the grand hall when she does so; and then someone like him appears, and she's just not quite sure what to do.
She only blinks at him at first, which isn't exactly polite but then neither is popping up in palace windows uninvited, complete with a leer that says he knows exactly what he's doing and that it isn't allowed.
"Well if it isn't you." He grins. And then, casually, as if he hadn't just been sizing her up like he was about to devour her, he pulls a cigaret from his jacket, straightening the length with his gloved fingers. "The oarfish." He adds, as though she didn't know her own species.
"Yes," She falters, and watches him light the smoke with a barely disguised curiosity. "Er...Idate, I believe? I didn't expect to see you again."
Because it's been months, since he apparently rescued her, out of the blue, going as far as to carry her back to safety. Why she still doesn't know. All of this has been mulled over, before, and since then she's only seen him in passing. He seems to take the referral to the incident in stride, and doesn't respond. Only perches himself more stably in the window pane, leaning against the frame as if it were his own property (it's not), and blows out a thin line of smoke into her fresh air.
Well.
"And what exactly are you doing...here?" Ponders Tatsumiya. She meant to be stiff, but her voice has a quaver to it, and she can't determine why. Maybe because he is no longer looking at her, but out at the darkening ocean and she's suddenly somewhat afraid of him.
"Taking a stroll." He says, entirely expected. And then. "One that was interrupted. I thought maybe you'd like to pay me back for that." Now he turns his gaze on her, sly eyes dark in her peripheral, grin glittering white in the fractal light. She should shut the window on him. Instead, she swallows a tiny lump in her throat.
"What...do you mean?"
Another slow draw of the cigaret. "I'm a long way from home. Thought maybe you would like to show me around." A pause, her nostrils catch the acrid scent of smoke and a cold drift.
"Stroll with me?"
Tatsumiya blinks again. Not very eloquent or original but the best she can do when her mind is presenting her with the very lengthy list of reasons she should refuse that request. The window is open, and night is drawing in; the sunlight is drifting further and further up, replaced by cold underdrafts. In the glow of the window she feels idly symbolic, her the light, him the dark.
"You do owe me, after all." Quips Idate, breaking her chain of thought. And it's all Tatsumiya can do not to let out a little "eep" as his face is suddenly inches from hers. But he's not grinning and she detects something...disappointment? In his voice and a dark look in his eyes.
The safest choice would be to shut the window, the best would be to call for help. But he's sort of right, and she does owe him, and if she's completely, utterly, honest with herself she's slightly less afraid of what he will do then she is the very real possibility of never crossing paths with him again. She still needs to know why after all, though she doubts he will tell her.
She doesn't have to say yes, apparently it shows on her face, because no sooner has she decided than one gloved hand closes around her palm, still buried in long sleeves, and she is hoisted up and over the window pane. He catches her nicely, however; with two hands almost like a gentleman. But then no, it isn't nice; he's much too close and she can smell the clinging, foreign scent of him along with the smoke, and this was an awful, awful idea and it'll be no one's fault but hers when she's never heard from again.
But he's grinning again now, down at her (is he really that tall?) and she finds she's not all that afraid, and after all, she knows the grounds better than him.
Cold night wind and sharp smoke in her eyes, warmth on her hand where he walks entirely to close and bumps her on ; when Tatsumiya takes her nightly stroll, this is not what she had in mind.