my heart's on fire—anditsdefinitelynotbecauseofyou

He led them through a few different tunnels, and they passed a few people, though no-one paid too much mind to Nairn. If anything, they were staring at his companion, pointing and whispering as they were left behind.

Eventually they step up to a hatch in a floor, and he pushes the trapdoor open, climbing up the ladder. At the top, he kneels and waits to pull her through, shutting and locking the hatch as it closes.

Welcome to my office. He's seated on the floor, studying the room around them. The room's fitted with a large desk, papers, files, notebooks strewn across the desks top. There's a vault in one corner, dedicated to keeping the Coterie funding safe.

He eventually found his feet, and moved to clear off the couch, covered in various folders and items. Messy, been away a while. He rolled up a map, and placed it elsewhere.

The couch was cleared now, and he settled onto it, pulling his shirt, which he'd brought with him through the corridors, on. Buttoning it slowly. C'mere, vhenan. He crooked a finger at her, patting the seat next to him, though he really wanted to pull her onto his lap. Now that there was no danger of anyone catching them together, he had no issue with more drastic PDA.

Gosh, he'd really never outgrown his issue with public affection. Some part of him had hoped that ten years in the future, he'd be able to kiss her and hold her in public.

Do you have more questions? Or would you... He chewed his lip, uncertain how to ask outright to hold her. To see if she'd curl up on this couch with him and let him just breathe in her scent. His face has flushed, the tips of his ears bright red. Made even worse by his light hair. ...maybe lay down with me? His voice is quiet, as if he's embarrassed. And he certainly looks embarrassed.