“Yeah, Al as in short for... oh… oh, right! Alastor and I share the same nickname, so don’t be surprised if we both look up at the same time,” he rambled as he felt her hand squeezing his. Huh, even with her gloves on, her skin felt ridiculously cold like… not in an ice-kind-of-way coldness that the rest of vampires seemed to have but cold in a way that reminded him of—
For a moment, as she silently withdrew her hand, Alistair can’t help but notice, here up close, that she seemed sort of conflicted with… something.
The sudden flicker of an uneasy expression in her face was so quick, so abrupt as it forcefully smoothed out into her natural stoic look that he was left wondering if he had imagined that change in expression just now. Was it something he said? Or does he have something on his face?
“Huh, fate is really something,” she muttered quietly, almost to herself, instantly tugging Alistair out of his sudden concern if he should go take a look on a mirror.