She may be talking too much, but when she talks, he doesn't have to. He would let her go on talking forever if it made her happy. It tugs a place in the back of his mind that asks a simple question of himself: what is wrong with you? He hates it when people jabber incessantly. He hates when words are used to fill space, to cover nerves. He hates when people find the cracks in his defenses and slip through. She rose, and he rose, and when she silences herself he's standing right before her, looking down upon her. Outside the morning sun rises at the edge of the city, trying its best to climb above the buildings that still cast long shadows. The rays filter in through the balcony doors, through the kitchen window, but the interior of the suite is still greyed and dim in most places. Those beams highlight at his back, ringing him in golden warmth.
Miss Kitty lets out a judgmental sound. She leaps from the coffee table and prances back down the hall.
Mihai doesn't want her to leave. It's been such a strange week. It's been an even stranger night. She's going to leave, and he's going to let her, and when he shuts the door behind her he will be reminded all over again just how empty everything is. He won't stop her. He won't stop her because leaving is exactly what she should do. Home is where she should be.
Stay with me, he thinks.
He offers instead: "I can ward anything you like. Your office, your flat.. your mailbox." His lips twitch in the faint threat of a smile. "I can make it so that no one who means you harm can enter freely. They will have to want to get through very, very badly, and if they manage to break it they will not get through unscathed. It should give you plenty of time to either retaliate or flee... and if you wish, I can bind my blood in such a way that if that happened... I will know it right away. And if you needed me at any other time, for anything, I would know that, too."