His dark voice trails down her spine, lighting a path of desire that renders her breathless. "If only I were in a position of no consequence."
Alia's breath wavers when the pad of his thumb slowly glides across her bottom lip.
"Then I could give in...
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"Killing is not so easy as the innocent believe - J.K. Rowling
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Sitting at the kitchen island, Valen waits patiently whilst Alia cooks in front of him. When asked about the food he prefers, he told Alia he doesn't care much for anything other than cooked meats. It's not that he doesn't like other foods, it's just that he hasn't felt the need to try them, satiated by the simple and quick preparation of his usual meals.
Early on, when he first joined Rosía, his Gamma noticed his narrowed diet and began forcing him to add some fruits and vegetables to his meals, stating he needed the vitamins to improve in health. Valen obliged, and quickly found that he liked the different flavours they brought. But that's the most he's ever tried when it comes to food: meat, fruit and vegetables.
After informing Alia, Valen felt slightly embarrassed by his basic diet, a hand moving to rub the back of his neck as he looked away from her. But Alia just nodded, eyes focused. Not a single ounce of judgment radiated off of her, and Valen found himself comforted by it.
A variety of succulent aromas flow from the pan on the ceramic hob. Valen tries to distract himself from looking at Alia's back, but he finds himself failing. His eyes travel down from the nape of her neck, hair tied up before she began cooking, towards the base of her spine.
Alia wears a short-sleeved, black athletic top, the material tight and revealing the intricate ridges of muscle on her back and abdomen. With each movement, Valen watches the lean muscle shift, eyes trailing down the defined curve of her spine. Black joggers hang off her hips, a slit of skin appearing above the waistband.
Valen tears his eyes away, hands tense. Fuck.
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A thick cut of steak sizzles on the pan, melted butter and oil coating the surface as Alia bastes it with a spoon. Valen's diet reminds her of the one her Uncle has. For years, Darian would grab chunks of meat out of the fridge and have that for his lunch and dinner. There were a few attempts at persuading him to try other cuisines, but the Commander refused every time, professing his unwavering love for our primal diet. So, as a thank you for training her, Alia would cook him a steak every Sunday.
