Of course it has been a while. That is what worries John. That, along with the light in Dresden's eyes. It's bright and hard to look away from, like when a sunspot flickers over your vision and you just have to find the reflective source. Looking at Dresden is like that now, the way he catches John's attention and holds it. It makes John want to take Harry back to Chicago, if only for a little while. Summer is coming, and the oppressive heat of the city could at least begin to melt the frost that has overtaken him.
John is about to extend that invitation with all the pomp and circumstance that such a thing demands, when Dresden plays his card.
It's partly the way it's said, with a low, curling rumble that makes John's adrenaline spike hard enough that he can feel the rush of blood. It's catlike, sidhe-like, mixed with the sort of casual aggression that the wizard always had. John steps away immediately, feeling like someone who just discovered the ground he walked on was not solid street, but treacherous black ice. His hand settles on the tile in his pocket, warm against his fingers and comforting.
Before he snaps it, he manages to still, calm himself. Rewind and replay what was said. "If I will have your company?" He slides a half step closer, at once careful of proximity but also tempted by this stupid dangerous thing laid out for him. "You make it seem like you've made claim, like the rules of the Hunt... Do I have choice here?"
He hates to admit weakness, especially with the Winter Knight looking at him with that strange hunger in his eyes, but he is in the tall grass here. "Who told you? About... this?" My fascination with you, with your eyes, your hands, and the power behind them. Could Mab have discovered?
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John is about to extend that invitation with all the pomp and circumstance that such a thing demands, when Dresden plays his card.
It's partly the way it's said, with a low, curling rumble that makes John's adrenaline spike hard enough that he can feel the rush of blood. It's catlike, sidhe-like, mixed with the sort of casual aggression that the wizard always had. John steps away immediately, feeling like someone who just discovered the ground he walked on was not solid street, but treacherous black ice. His hand settles on the tile in his pocket, warm against his fingers and comforting.
Before he snaps it, he manages to still, calm himself. Rewind and replay what was said. "If I will have your company?" He slides a half step closer, at once careful of proximity but also tempted by this stupid dangerous thing laid out for him. "You make it seem like you've made claim, like the rules of the Hunt... Do I have choice here?"
He hates to admit weakness, especially with the Winter Knight looking at him with that strange hunger in his eyes, but he is in the tall grass here. "Who told you? About... this?" My fascination with you, with your eyes, your hands, and the power behind them. Could Mab have discovered?