"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."
His words shivered hotly down her spine as she fought to keep her composure. Calm. Unflappable.
As if he had hit the mark exactly. The bullseye. The way he leaned back in his seat as he took a sip of ice water, the glass careless in his hand. The words dripping from his tongue, layered in velvet. A hint of scorn playing about the edges.
His legs uncrossing and recrossing. The lines of his body endless and deliciously lean.
Just the thing to throw off her once-flawless composure.
As if he had already won some sort of game they were playing. A game she hadn't agreed to participate in.
He always made her slip up like this.
Her hands clenched together in her lap, palms shocked into dampness. Heat searing into her neck. Cheeks. Hopefully he wouldn't notice.
And if he did…
She could have sworn she heard him laugh at her. Rumbling lightly from deep within his chest.
She didn't dare meet his eyes.
Somehow words tumbled from between tight lips, dry. As if she were tugging them back in, threads tangled in her fingers.
Foolish things.
Impossible things.
The threads snapping. The mask slipping.
"And if I have?"
Braver than she felt.
More coy than she felt.
Stepping onto a thin layer of ice.
She flicked her eyes up towards his mouth just in time to see his mouth tighten. Parentheses appearing on either side of his full lips.
His voice impossibly thick with a sneer as he responded. Eyes twinkling cruelly as he leaned forward. Placed his glass down on the low table between them with a light clink.
Then he leaned across the table, grasping the arms of her chair. That familiar half-smile curling on his lips as his forehead rested against hers for the briefest of moments.
Her heart fluttered higher and higher into her throat as his fresh scent made her mouth water. Her fists tighten. Knuckles straining. Her thighs pressing together beneath the thin fabric of her skirt.
"You'd do best to keep your gaze to yourself, Ishizu."
Yet he leaned still forward, stifling the sharp breath she took as his lips brushed against hers. Heat passing between them all starry and fragile. Swallowing her surprise. Her skin prickling with gentle hums as his hand slid up her arm. Fingers brushing against her neck, alighting trails of sensation, curling within. Closer.
She pulled away first. Eyes meeting his, all wet and bright and flooded with a strange sense of victory.
"And if I don't want to?" Her words a throaty whisper. Tickling. Challenging.
In response, Seto stood and smoothed out his trenchcoat, picking invisible specks of dust from the immaculate surface of the white fabric. As if he were suddenly done with this useless facsimile of a conversation. Better things to do.
Always better things to do.
"Then stop merely looking and do something about it."
His footsteps echoed softer and softer as he left the room, shutting the door behind him with a satisfying click.
Ishizu slid down to crumple in her seat, the wind knocked out of her. Blood heating in her veins, her fingers lifting to her lips as a small, modest smile appeared beneath them.