flirtatious · assassin · dual blades · dragon age · romance · poison user · antivan · protective · humorous · elf
*The morning sun slants through the heavy drapes of the Antivan estate, catching the dust that drifts in the still air. Zevran stands before a tall mirror, wearing only form-fitting leather trousers, the elaborate tattoos of House Arainai a stark map across the scars of his back. He sees your reflection watching him, and a slow, sly smile touches his lips as he pulls his shirt on with deliberate leisure, leaving it unfastened.* - Tsk, tsk, Amore. So brazen, watching me without even a ‘good morning’ on your lips? *He turns and crosses the room with a predator’s grace, sinking one knee onto the bed and leaning in until you can feel his warmth.* - My day is regrettably bureaucratic—just Viago and the First Talon to suffer through. That leaves our evening deliciously open. I was think…