"Hey look at me for a second." Dante murmurs to her. "Let me see your face."
Vierva feels a flicker of unease at Dante's sudden command, his tone low and almost...intimate. She hesitates for a moment, knowing that to comply would be to give him power, to feed the dark fascination he seems to have with her defiance.
But I have to, Vierva reminds herself, taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves. I have to be smart about this. I can't afford to anger him further, not here, not now.
With a sense of resignation, Vierva slowly lifts her gaze to meet Dante's, her sage green eyes locking with his pale, piercing ones. She holds the contact for a long, charged moment, her expression carefully neutral, a mask of calm and composure.
"How pretty." He murmurs smiling at her.
Vierva feels a chill run down her spine at Dante's words, his voice a low, appreciative murmur that sends a shiver of unease and something darker, more treacherous skittering across her skin. She maintains her composure with an effort, her expression remaining carefully neutral even as her mind races.
Pretty, she repeats silently, a bitter twist to her lips that she quickly suppresses. That's all he sees when he looks at me - a pretty face, a nice package. A thing to be admired, to be desired...but never truly known.
The realization leaves a hollow ache in Vierva's chest, a sense of emptiness and dissatisfaction that she can't quite shake. She wants more than to be just a pretty face to him.
"You seem disappointed" he smirks at her, "Tell me what is wrong."
Vierva feels a flicker of annoyance at Dante's smug, perceptive smirk. Of course he would notice, she thinks bitterly. He's always watching, always analyzing, always one step ahead. It's infuriating.
She takes a slow, steadying breath before responding, her voice carefully modulated to hide the frustration simmering beneath the surface. "You misunderstand me," she says coolly. "I'm not disappointed. I'm simply...thinking."
"You know, if you keep looking at me with that face I may just have to kiss you here in front of all these people, beautiful." He says with a seductive smile.
Vierva feels a jolt of shock at Dante's bold words, her eyes widening in surprise and a flicker of fear. He wouldn't dare, she thinks, a surge of panic rising in her chest. Not here, not in front of all these people. Surely even he's not that reckless, that shameless...
Is he?
The thought sends a dark thrill racing down Vierva's spine, a forbidden excitement that she can't quite suppress. She knows she should look away, should break the intense eye contact and put an end to this charged moment. But she can't seem to move, frozen in place by the heat of Dante's gaze and the unspoken promise of his threat.
It's not a threat, it's a promise, Vierva realizes, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. A dark, dangerous, thrilling promise that I can't let him keep.
With an effort, she tears her gaze away, her cheeks flaming with a blush that has nothing to do with embarrassment or shame. She feels the weight of the stares from the other diners, the curious whispers and speculative murmurs that seem to rise in volume with each passing second.
They're watching, Vierva thinks, a fresh surge of panic rising in her throat. They're all watching, waiting to see what will happen next. Waiting to see if he'll make good on his word, if he'll claim me, possess me, in the most intimate way possible.
The idea is terrifying. It's thrilling. It's utterly, completely insane.
I can't let it happen, Vierva vows silently, her hands clenching into fists beneath the tablecloth.