<em>“Is that so? Then I’m pleased.”<br/></em><br/>His laughter washed through her, sharp but also bright; she was glad to have earned that sound of mirth for whatever reason she had been gifted with it. He didn't often relax enough to laugh from what she had observed. "It is Atticus, you know I never say things I do not mean." She smiled, shifting on the chaise as he moved and bowed to her, laughing herself in delight as she noted the smile on his features. The robe had parted, revealing a narrow gap of aquamarine veils bound to her body by gold and pale smooth skin as she looked up at him. She liked him like this; he seemed almost touchable.<br/><br/><em>“Then your hero is indebted. Though how to compensate? Only fools take a fae’s gifts without thought to the cost. You might steal me away in the night, or turn me into some vile beast.”</em><br/><br/>Fiona lifted an arm, draping it over the back of the chaise and resting her head on it, her neck exposed by the position as she watched him brush his hair out of he way, giggling at his words. "A vile beast then? Are there not too many of those already?" Her elegant nose wrinkled slightly, mirth dancing in her bright eyes. "Would you truly protest if I stole you away? Though I fear I am no mastermind as such fiends usually are, I'd only have endless poetry and clothing fittings to torture you with."<br/><br/>She mocked herself easily there, her mask slipping some to show the insecurity of being perhaps too tame, too soothing. She fell a little in love with her clients, and they with her, but she was their haven, their soother. Not since William had she felt that she made someone burn for her, ache, want, need. There was no epic love to be had in the endless nights that now lay before her, how foolish a girl was she to have believed something so impossible would last. His question, so softly asked drew her back and she smiled, shaking her head even as she raised it from the pillow of her arm. "You owe me nothing Atticus, I simply enjoy your company and books are ever my delight." He was not a client, they both knew what she was, exactly what she was. "I never said you were my hero though, that would presume far too much, and after all whoever heard of a whore having a dashing hero."<br/><br/>One arm raised then, parting the plum robe further and showing more of the body beneath it as she gestured to her room, the smile on her lips sadly rueful, that flash of something that was not serenity. "What more could I want then what is here? A whore needs no more then clients desires no? To desire more is foolish, so...so very foolish." her last words trailed off, and the girl was unaware of the look in her normally bright eyes, it was pleading, lost, desperate, yearning. It was all the things she never allowed herself to be. Her head settled back onto her arm, this time her gaze turned, focused on the windows that made up the wall gazing out into the rain as if it would yield her answers.<br/><br/>"What other words may I slay for you brave one?"