“Give me that…” Helen set her glass down on the table and then reached forward, attempting to pry the tray from his hand. He was busy waving it around most unhelpfully, observing and testing like any good scientist.
“I always knew you were cheap,” he drawled. Though the tray masqueraded as silver – it most certainly was not.
“Careful,” she cautioned, taking hold of both sides of the tray. “You won’t heal so easy now should I dig up that silver stake of mine.”
“It’s probably not even real silver.”
“Care to test it out?” she tugged the tray free – both of them falling back to the respective corners of the couch.
The wine in Nikola’s glass lapped at the rim as he steadied himself.
Helen turned the tray over in her hands – her reflection flashing in and out. She was surprised to see undeniable evidence of the time she had spent getting ready for this moment. Her hair was swept back and fastened with an evening clip, her makeup had been freshly applied and her skirt was – well, shorter than she had realised. Combined with the cherished bottle of wine that she had sacrificed in his honour it struck her that she was being positively flirtatious. For once, Nikola had not noticed.
“I can’t believe you kept it,” Nikola sipped at the golden liquid, his eyes roaming over the room in search of metallic items.
“Please…” she drawled. “It was worth keeping for the silver alone.”
Nikola lofted a brow in her direction, presenting his now empty glass. She rolled her eyes and leant forward, taking the bottle and tilting it over his glass.
“When was that anyway?” he held his glass steady as she poured, his eyes occasionally flicking to hers. “Ninety-two?”
“Eighteen ninety-three,” she corrected him. “Your perfect memory fails you again.”
Nikola shot her a cautionary glance. “It has a lot to remember…”
“Forever is a long time, isn’t it?”
“It was,” he held her gaze for a moment, searching her clear blue eyes before looking away. It was. He was mortal now and he couldn’t even begin to deal with that yet.
Nikola didn’t hear her soft call of his name the first time. It was only when she repeated it – her hand falling to his knee, that he turned back to her.
“My lady,” he started, mustering all the charm of a bygone era, “I do believe you are flirting.”
A smile broke across her face, spreading to Helen’s.
“Positively scandalous,” she assured him.
“Well,” Nikola teetered in slightly – a satisfied glint in his eyes. “It’s about time.”
Nikola was considering his chances of closing the distance between when a fountain pen from her desk up and flew at him.
“Ow…” he drawled, when it stuck persistently to his neck. “Let me guess…” he said, as Helen reached up – trailing her fingers over the collar of his suit.
“Cheap…” they both said together.