I wonder to myself what Alexander would have done if the human had decided to grab me again. Would he have stood there and watched or leapt into action? I can see him now, all angry and intimidating with those piercing blue eyes and devil may care grin, ready to chop down any who dare to get in his way. But does he care about me enough to fight for me? Or rather, does he think I can handle myself? He only knew me as the scared Were girl who shrunk away from him in that cafe when I first found out he was a hunter. Does he even recognize me as the Were who arms herself instead of running?

I'm still so in the dark as to how to define Alexander and myself but I'm dying to find out what he wants from this. I'm still skeptical that he would ever want anything close to the committed relationships I saw in my home pack, how they adored each other and held hands and fed each other. It was so gross and yet so adorable, even when I was young. Do I want that with Alexander? More than anything. But how to go about asking if he wants that too?

I'm sure he's lived through many relationships. I wonder if he ever stayed with anyone until their mortal death. Surely he must have cared about someone enough along the way to want to stay but how must that feel, to watch someone you love grow old and gray and die, knowing there's nothing you can do to stop it? My heart almost aches for him at the thought.

I wonder vaguely if Alexander only came to where I am because he thought I'd need him to save me. The thought is almost humorous to me, that he would see me instead poised and ready to attack instead of becoming the victim. I wonder if he can see the change or if he's still convinced that I need saving. I am surprised that he would show up here of all places tonight but I can't say I'm not happy he did.

He says that he might take me up on that and I laugh lightly, liking the way he wants to play back instead of just being speechless. That would have made things so much more awkward. "I look forward to it." I quip back, eager not to let the conversation die on my part.

When I ask after whatever was happening in the next alley, he runs a hand through his hair, as if he's just been reminded of what he's supposed to be doing instead of talking to me. Oh my, am I going to get the mighty hunter in trouble? I get mesmerized by his hair, watching the way the moonlight sprays across his hair like stardust. I still remember how it felt to run my own fingers through it, to tangle them in his mass of hair while I held his lips close. Oh boy, that's one way to get me squirming.

He shakes his head, saying he doubts I'd want to know what it's about and I nod in understanding. "Should we continue this another time or can the distraction last just a little bit longer?" I take another daring step toward him as I ask, my brow rising, eyes twinkling with mischief. I don't want him to leave, as selfish and childish as that sounds. I like this playful banter we've started and I don't want it to end.

I try to make conversation by asking if he's hunting but he seems almost surprised that I would bring it up. I guess it is kind of odd, a Were asking about a Hunter's missions like my kind wouldn't usually be on that hit list. I guess I'm a little more comfortable with what he does since I usually go out on the hunt myself most nights when I'm trying to avoid confrontation at the Ark. I don't go out looking for trouble or anything but I do like the feeling of patrolling the West side. I at least feel like I'm doing something useful.

I smirk a little when he says that he misplaced his prey. I like that he smiles at me, his eyes twinkling in that sexy way that makes it hard to catch my breath. He mutters that I always distract him and if it weren't for the sudden distraction of his lips on mine, I might have done one of those dramatic sighs like the girls do in love movies when they're tragically and hopelessly in love. I respond to his cautious kiss with a tender and yet wanting one of my own, even leaning up on my tip toes some to press my lips more firmly to his own in assurance that this is what I want. As I pull away, I whisper. "Glad I'm not the only one."

I do love these chaste moments but it's bound to end too soon. He pulls out a dagger and this time, I don't tense up in fear. Rather I admire the blade before looking back up at him when he speaks about putting it out of its misery. I chew on my bottom lip for a moment before I bend my finger in a "come hither" gesture, leaning in toward his ear to whisper feather soft. "Maybe when you're done, you can come put me out of mine." I pull back slowly, still chewing on my bottom lip, a smile at the edges of my lips, my eyes still twinkling as I brush some more hair behind my ear. I'm feeling quite daring tonight, what can I say?

alexis wilde