bBeltane Fires/b
Josef loves to watch the fear light her eyes. Each time Beth seeks him out to gain his help the trepidation shines through no matter how composed her voice and body seem. This time she asks for a death, even as she hides from that knowledge. He knows his own eyes betray amusement – this one death means nothing but an opportunity to gain Beth's gratitude. Tote up one more debt in his favor, to be redeemed at a moment of his choice.
She never looks away. Sparks of fear flashing in worried eyes as she listens to his warning, as she considers his advice. He wonders if she even knows herself why she can't look away, if Beth has even begun to admit to herself the desire she feels in his presence. The signs are obvious to his centuries old gaze – the racing heart, rapid breaths, and the sheen of sweat that highlights her golden skin.
She reminds him of the maidens on Beltane Eve centuries ago, breathless with excitement, flushed with anticipation, eyes clouded with fear. Trembling on the brink of womanhood, yet ready to step forth and dance between the fires. Mick has left her as untouched as any sheltered virgin, ignorant to the pleasures shared between human and vampire. At times like this Josef wonders if his dearest friend is a complete idiot.
But other times he races through the night wrapped in sleek metal and painted with moonlight and is glad of Mick's foolish mistake. When Beth is ready to step into the fire, Josef knows he'll be the one to show her the dance.