games of luck

Dorian's gaze, a piercing and almost punishing stare held the girl's eyes as long as he was able until they closed with the movements of Danta's tongue. There was a hint of annoyance, a subtle acknowledgment that his calculated moves hadn't produced the desired effect of unsettling the girl. But that was why he was here after all; to learn and adapt.

After a moment, he let a slow, predatory smile grace his lips, a controlled response to Danta's question. "Tempt me?" Dorian repeats. "I suppose you're accustomed to saying that. Of needing to give your various clientele every opportunity to get up the nerve, so to speak." His thumb sensually traced the rim of the wine glass, a gesture both suggestive and deliberate. "I hope I don't strike you as the sort of man who needs such invitations." He adds, his tone carrying the air of someone accustomed to getting precisely what they wanted without having to reach for it.

Dorian took a languid sip from his wine, a subtle furrow creasing his brow as he eyed Danta. "Do take your time," he quipped dryly, though his voice retained its smooth and controlled cadence. "No need to rush on my account." His gaze lingered on the proceedings, calculating and perhaps a touch more impatient than before.

The high indifference some call fate
But we had names more intimate

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!