He had a tendency to be pushy, didn’t he? If he were ever called out on it, he might just laugh and agree that he just liked to get his own way. Which came with its own set of consequences. While he set up shop in the niche he called a dining area, he shot a glance over her way: the picturesque representation of a domestic lifestyle. Almost as if this night could turn into an actual date night rather than the science experiment that it no doubt was. Call it the euphoria was the drugs and the magical cocktail he’d injected into his bloodstream earlier in the evening, but the man allowed himself the pleasure of an actual smile when he let the idea of a<i>them </i>sink into his thoughts. For a few minutes, he even let the bright and sunshiny thought innervate his imagination that it was a possibility until the dreary darkness came to scrub the reminder that no matter how sweet the pot, there was always the acrid reminder that was<i>him </i>lingering at the after taste. His was a tentative existence. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them – least of all her – if he planted the idea of a<i>them </i>in their minds.<br/><br/>It was the reason why he had disappeared into the mist the last time, right.<br/><br/>But Lane only knew a fragment of who he was, the past that he came from, where she herself had only lived a fraction of her own.<i>She’s only twenty three, Sinclair</i>, he chided himself silently.<i>Remember that. She’s smart – but she’s only twenty three. </i>Tanith had been thirty two, but so deeply ensconced in the supernatural world that nothing had surprised her and he had still been a disappointment at the end of the day. The smile that radiated on his face frayed at the corners until it was gone from his face, his fingers leaden as they prepped and sterilized the needle he would use to draw her blood. Once that was done, he took a piece of magnetic chalk from the bag he had lugged out there to draw a circle right on the table like a kid making artwork on his parents’ furniture. He sectioned the circle and filled in the blanks with a series of practiced symbols.<br/><br/>“Can you disable the smoke detector, please?” He cast the question casually while she turned the heat down on the pots and moved to make her way over to where he was adding the finishing touches to his next masterpiece on the beat up table.<br/><br/>Green eyes flicked up to her once she joined him and sat. His smile was wan, but reassuring. “You’re here. Why would I<i>not </i>be in a good mood?” He countered her back and sealed the teasing rhetoric he offered her by leaning forward to brush his mouth against her own. Something, he had noticed, she was reluctant to return the gesture of his affections. Since that morning, the ethereal delusion of their magical night had worn off. Here was the real – and it was an awkward son of a bitch. Still, he could try.<br/><br/>He took a seat himself next to her in a chair. Reaching out, he slid his open palm underneath her arm so that his fingers were warm against her skin. It was both to steady him and her as well. His other took up an alcoholic wipe that he swiped over an obvious vein that stood out blue against her pale skin, then grabbed up the needle and syringe he was going to use to extract the little bit of blood he needed.<br/><br/>“Keep in mind, I’m not a medical professional. Sorry for the jab,” he cautioned.<br/><br/>Then came the jab. Quick as a snake bite, the needle buried into her arm. He immediately pushed the syringe, watching the dark red liquid fill it up. He stoppered the flow soon after he withdrew with a square of gauze and a band aid slapped over the puncture.<br/><br/>“That’s just for the lab work,” he murmured, glancing up at her face once he had sequestered he blood away, out of sight. “Are you ready for the fun part? Or would you rather eat first?” He grinned now as he watched her expectantly, nodding his head toward the bubbling noodles in the kitchen. “This next part might get a little wild.”