The barest hint of a smile graced her features. "I highly doubt that's true. Most would be just as bored as I am- just a bit more scared."
Corrado's fingernails dug reflexively into the wooden paneling of the bed as a shudder ran through him. His insides twisted painfully. It felt as if something were ripping and clawing, lodged deep in his throat. He coughed reflexively. Her blood would soothe all of this away, would stop all pain. All thirst.
"You're... not afeared... at all?" he bit out, because talking was a distraction at least.
Something close to a smile turned her lips upwards again. "You overestimate yourself. Any reasonable person would only be a touch afraid; a sensible sort of caution, for dealing with anything hungry and sharp-toothed. I know nothing of fear; what reason would I have to flinch now?" Her words were clipped and wintery, but behind them lurked a sort of reassurance.
She would not flee. She would not turn on him.
"If I were a Nord, I'd be offended at that assessment," he said with a grin.
Jenassa cocked a brow at him. "You pay me for my sword, not my flattery."
"I haven't paid you in months." He hadn't quite realized it, until the words left his mouth. Somewhere along the line, she had stopped reminding him.
"Nor have you objected to me taking my share of the spoils," she pointed out.
That was true too. She'd started seeking out loot instead of hanging back in the aftermath of fights and he... hadn't really thought much of it.
"I suppose this makes this more of a partnership."
"I suppose," Jenassa said. "So long as your newfound aversion to blood isn't... professional."
Corrado shuddered again. The first time he had hired her, he'd been too close to starving, the blood hunger too great. He should have waited and found some quiet place to feed before, but he'd been too eager to begin the hunt. Once the bandits he had been tasked to kill were dead, he had fallen upon their corpses and drained them dry.
When he had lifted his head from the last exsanguinated body, splattered with blood and gore, he'd expected Jenassa to be fleeing or preparing to attack. Instead, she had merely been watching him calmly.
Her only response had been a mild appreciation. "To think what masterpieces I could create if I could fight like that."
Partnership 1.2/? (M!DB + Jenassa)
Corrado's fingernails dug reflexively into the wooden paneling of the bed as a shudder ran through him. His insides twisted painfully. It felt as if something were ripping and clawing, lodged deep in his throat. He coughed reflexively. Her blood would soothe all of this away, would stop all pain. All thirst.
"You're... not afeared... at all?" he bit out, because talking was a distraction at least.
Something close to a smile turned her lips upwards again. "You overestimate yourself. Any reasonable person would only be a touch afraid; a sensible sort of caution, for dealing with anything hungry and sharp-toothed. I know nothing of fear; what reason would I have to flinch now?" Her words were clipped and wintery, but behind them lurked a sort of reassurance.
She would not flee. She would not turn on him.
"If I were a Nord, I'd be offended at that assessment," he said with a grin.
Jenassa cocked a brow at him. "You pay me for my sword, not my flattery."
"I haven't paid you in months." He hadn't quite realized it, until the words left his mouth. Somewhere along the line, she had stopped reminding him.
"Nor have you objected to me taking my share of the spoils," she pointed out.
That was true too. She'd started seeking out loot instead of hanging back in the aftermath of fights and he... hadn't really thought much of it.
"I suppose this makes this more of a partnership."
"I suppose," Jenassa said. "So long as your newfound aversion to blood isn't... professional."
Corrado shuddered again. The first time he had hired her, he'd been too close to starving, the blood hunger too great. He should have waited and found some quiet place to feed before, but he'd been too eager to begin the hunt. Once the bandits he had been tasked to kill were dead, he had fallen upon their corpses and drained them dry.
When he had lifted his head from the last exsanguinated body, splattered with blood and gore, he'd expected Jenassa to be fleeing or preparing to attack. Instead, she had merely been watching him calmly.
Her only response had been a mild appreciation. "To think what masterpieces I could create if I could fight like that."