Prompt: #31 Passion
Summary: Her feelings could only be described as passionate.
A/N: This continues a series that was started in the Lacesco Series. The chapters within that are Satira, Termino and Celeritas.
Aestus is Latin for "passionate fire".
Aestus
"I… am not trying to sound…"
"Stupid?" he offers with a raised brow and entirely too smug a tone. "Trust me, Princess. I have already formed an unchangeable opinion of you."
Figures, she mentally chides herself. She is not, will not, will absolutely not rise to that bait.
"I do not remember venturing this far out before," she manages to get out in a somewhat civil voice.
"That would be because we didn't," he answers, like that was a given this whole time.
So much for wanting to be tactful.
So, instead of asking what they both know she wanted to know next, she merely looks at him pointedly and waits for him to answer. For she was also, not about to listen to yet another snide comment without doing him real physical harm. Her stress levels were too greatly strained to have anymore patience with him at present. It takes her longer now, for the inclination to soften. It takes her another to find a less volatile solution. Perhaps she could avoid violence by simply flattening one of his more prominent spikes. That might be enough retribution. The mental image is very tempting.
"It would appear that you are enjoying this time spent with me," he notes. His gaze is flickering over the smirk that, no doubt, must be on her face as she pictures taking such decisive action. She does not, for one moment, even entertain the notion that he actually believes her smirk is from the enjoyment of his company. It does not mean, however, that she was not going to take advantage of the opening he provides her.
"But of course!" she fairly shrieks, deliberately mimicking the sickly sweet tone that she has heard many ladies use when speaking to him. "I so enjoy spending my holidays trapped in abominable accommodations and verbally sparring with the most infuriatingly rude man, who claims he is a prince! With such lovely activities such as being attacked for nefarious motives and taking an agonizing stroll through a treacherous wilderness, all while being eaten alive by the local insect life."
"You need to get out more," he comments dryly. He is not in the least bit put off by her extremely sarcastic insult to his hosting abilities. If anything, he looks on the verge of smirking... again.
"How much further do we need to go?" she demands without pretense or decorum.
"You, truly, are not having a smashing good time in my company?"
Oh no. No, she was not going to fall for that deceptively crushed tone either. The admirable attempt of the look of absolute desolation would grant him an acting award for sure. Too bad he was as genuine as any liar in this moment. The gall of the cad.
"I am enjoying this as much as you are," she manages to calmly reply. Her eyes glitter in challenge and makes it clear that she will not be wilted by his feigned wound.
"Doubtful," he snorts and continues his onward path to who knows where.
That sounded about as forth right as she had ever heard from him. She should take offense to his blunt statement, but is glad that it is at least an honest one. No, she is relieved beyond measure. For it was far more preferable that he be forthcoming instead of counterfeit. She is not sure how it came to be, but she could always tell when he was being sincere and when he was simply being difficult and mocking for the sake of being such. Not that she had the foggiest what he really meant by most his statements, but at least she could always tell whether he was in earnest or whether he was merely trying to jerk her chain. The latter being his favorite past time. The man surely must be a sadist to be so condescending and maddening. It was also the latter that she was comfortable with, no matter that she was almost always skirting the edge of losing her temper. When it was the former, she had no idea what to make of him. To take him seriously would be dangerous, she muses. Dangerous in all ways except the physical. For she knew, despite his propensity to get a thrill from getting a rise out of her, that he would never intentionally harm her physically. She found she liked disliking him. To dislike him was safe. Anything favorable would be dangerous. To think of him in any favorable sort of way was absolutely restricted. It was something she refused to allow her mind to ponder, let alone acknowledge. For, if she found she actually liked him...
"Where did it go?" he asks, a little closer than he had been before. Not too close to as to invade her personal space, but he is close to it.
His query brings her back to their present situation, which she has tried most fervently not to dwell on, was that they were alone. She was all alone with this man that was so multi dimensional that she always felt downright common in comparison. He made her feel as if she were in over her head with him. That she was too simple to understand him.
"Where did what go?" she asks, frowning at his handsome face. The same one that often seemed to beg her to slap it. Somehow she does not think that is what they meant by attraction.
"That fire of passion that is usually in your strange eyes," he answers matter of factly. He says it so naturally, so factually. As if he knew her. As if they were on an intimate acquaintance.
Which was highly inappropriate and grossly inaccurate!
The very insinuation, uttered in that, in that bored and unaffected sort of way makes her cheeks flush with outraged anger. As if he had any right to call her eyes strange! When his, at times, turned an almost indecent red!
"Though that is absolutely none of your concern," she snaps, blowing angrily at a strand of hair that happened to fall across her eyes. "If you must know, I am always nothing if not passionate."
"Really?" he challenges. Challenges with a sharply raised eyebrow that never fails to aggravate her.
"I feel very passionate about you," she answers, using his own flat tone.
"How passionate, Princess?" he asks, in an attempt to call her bluff.
"In a fiery, flaming, heated passionate way," she says breathlessly, making sure to take a step closer to him as she does. She inches closer until their bodies are almost touching. "An almost all consuming flame of passion."
He lowers his head to peer down at her. "Uncontrollably?"
"Very," she agrees, tilting her head up towards him. "It holds me utterly captive."
"And will you yield to it?" he asks in a heated whisper. The warmth of his breathe breezes across her lips as he speaks.
"Do you think you could handle it?" she asks.
"Only if you can handle mine," he replies as they both lean in ever closer to each other.
"I am always up for a challenge."
"Good," he says approvingly. "Because we are about to be attacked and are terribly out numbered."
She jerks her head away to whirl around to face this oncoming enemy. Her rune is already flashing to life in golden rivulets as she scans the area around them.
"If we hurry, we can lose them through that foliage there," he advises, pointing to a thick patch before them.
"At least the adrenaline is kicking in," she shrugs, surprised at how disappointed she feels to be running from another confrontation when she feels so suddenly exhilarated. At the moment, she was fairly itching for a fight.
"Off we go," he says, ushering her with a shooing motion of his hands.
She takes three steps in the direction he indicates before he stops her with his next words.
"You will not become a tease, will you, Princess?" he baits.
"Of course not," she says, turning her face to give him a sultry smile. "I never fail to display how passionately I despise you, Prince Noctis."
He returns her smile with his trademark smirk with knowing eyes. As if he had known all along what she had really meant with her titillating words a moment before. It is the first time she allows herself to acknowledge how in tune they both were to each other. So accurately attuned to each other that it was frightening when they disliked each other so much.
"Before you try for a dramatic exit, may I remind you that you have no idea where you are going and it is I who needs to be in the lead?"
"Then you will have to explain to me why you are wasting time doddling in the first place," she retorts.
He lets out a sound of amusement and shakes his head.
"I like you too, Princess," he says, brushing past her and pushing his way through the heavy vines.
Trust him to always have a snappy one liner to part with.
With a roll of her eyes, she hurries after him into the thick bush.