You get home and shower, change into a hoodie dress and slippers. After working on your laptop, you fall asleep for a bit, and then something inside just makes you jolt awake. You look at your watch, and realize you need to start supper, so you head down the steps.
"Henry!"
"Hi."
His gaze was...well, nothing you are used to. "You okay?"
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"
Alarms go off inside you. "I'll do something quick tonight." You say. You pull out flat bread, cheese, sauce, mushrooms and spinach. You pull out chicken wings and spices.
"Something wrong?"
"No," you say quickly. "I fell asleep up there—"
"Tired?"
"Maybe a little," you confess with a small chuckle. "Had a power nap actually."
"Twenty minutes?"
"More like forty," you exhale softly. You feel nervous as he watches you rinse and spice the chicken, then put them on a tray and into the oven. You start cutting vegetables to make a salad.
"Why are they on?"
"What?" You turn to him and he is much closer than you realize. In fact, he's right behind you. "Henry!" You manage to laugh, but it's a nervous twitter. You turn back to your task, only to be whirled back around. "Henry?"
He takes the knife from your hand with ease, and then bends to throw you over his shoulder. You let out a small cry of surprise as you are taken out of the kitchen area.
"Henry—supper—"
His tone is somewhat of a deadpan growl. "You set the oven on a timer."
Your breath catches. Did he just sound like Geralt?
He takes you up the steps to your bed and tosses you gently on it like prey. You open your mouth to speak, but you don't know what to say.
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He crawls over you and your heart races. He sniffs your neck. "Milk and honey..."
You don't have that many scents, honestly. Milk and honey every day use. Lavender and chamomile for relaxation. Eucalyptus mint when you are stressed. That's not new, your mind races but clouds as his lips drag up the hollow of your throat.
"Hmm..." he sniffs your hair. "not that..." he locks eyes on you and rubs noses with you. "Cucumber lemon?"
"W-well, yes, it's good for you," you whisper. "Henry—" He sniffs down your body like a beast assessing if his kill is edible. You watch his nostrils flare slightly as he smells you. He is on your knees by your calves and looks up at you.
"I—"
He snatches up the dress and looks at your underwear. Eyes closed, he buries his nose into them and you feel the warmth of his breath against you. His eyes open, and your breath catches again as his gaze bears into you. "These don't belong here—" To your shock, he rips them at the sides and pulls them off.
