I am not a scholar and I don't believe in fate
The look in her eyes and the way her words fell from her lips loosened Noah up, even before her fingers started working on his muscles. "Well, you know," he shrugged, following her for a few steps, "It would be a sin to forget my first encounter with you." He kept his gaze steadily on hers as she moved backwards, as graceful and skillful as a dancing luxere. His smile did not fade too far, even after his painful movements, and it brightened his face again. While he did not know the woman well, at all, he felt comfortable enough around her. While he could be cold, their previous encounters did not require an icy guard over his demeanor.
She went on about what he needed to do. Having never been the shy type, Noah did as he was instructed. He did not feel the need for the changing room, and lifted his shirt off without thinking twice. He folded it haphazardly and placed it where she had informed him. Obediently, the hunter took a towel and laid it out on the table. She asked him about scents as she glided towards her storage cabinet. Noah's brow furrowed for a moment, a flicker of contemplation, before he shook his head. "You can choose." While he felt reasonably comfortable around this woman, he wasn't comfortable enough to ask her if she had oils that smelled like the wildflowers in King's End.
NOAH
