As far as Dorian could tell, Rhy'Din City was everything they'd said it would be and then some - it was large and sprawling with an eclectic mix of people from all over the multi-verse. It was both charming and seedy at the same time, and he was having one hell of a time exploring it - from the rundown shanties on the south side of town to the upscale manors farther north. The place was simply teeming with life, and he was basking in it. It was the perfect place for a traveling theater troupe, even if the city did boast a theater or two. A little friendly competition never hurt anyone, and Dorian felt up to the challenge. Besides, it wouldn't be long before they'd move on and just be a memory in the minds of those who called this place home.

His destination today was the Old Temple District, where he had an appointment with a photographer to arrange for photos for various posters and advertisements promoting the troupe's visit. The area was quaint enough, and like the showman he was, he was offering flourishing bows to every woman he passed, whether she was single or taken, pretty or hideous. At last, he reached his destination on foot and stood outside to appraise the building.

Lowell Photography Studio had clearly once been a part of some factory or other, sheathed in red brick with black brick for effect. The door stood open beside a wide window, both of which showed a light reception area, manned by a cheerful young woman almost constantly on the telephone beside her. There was a sense of bustling busy-ness about the place, accentuated by the sight of a car being loaded with various equipment of the photographer's trade. A redheaded woman leaned in the doorway, grinning as the leaving photographers waved to her and climbed into the car.

"Gods, they've got a long night ahead of them," she said, not quite to herself, laughing as she pushed off the doorframe.

"Pardon me, miss," Dorian said as he approached the building, just as the car was pulling away. "I'm looking for Lowell Photography Studio. I'm Dorian Hadley. I have an appointment," he said, politely doffing his hat to reveal a head of longish and slightly untidy brown hair. Of course, the sign above the door told him he had arrived at the right place, but it never hurt to ask.

Green eyes looked him over as he doffed his hat, her expression more amused than anything. Even standing as she was on the four inch lip that was a trip hazard for everyone who entered the studio, she was still almost dwarfed by the polite man addressing her. She pointed upward toward the sign over the door.

"Well, either you're in the right place, or someone's been playing silly buggers with the signage around here," she informed him, jerking her head to invite him inside with a chuckle. "C'mon in." She stepped backward, moving over to the reception desk to lean over and take a look at the appointment book. "Dorian Hadley, consultation on portraits?"

"Posters, actually," he pointed out helpfully, once he'd followed her inside, leaning over the desk just a little too presumptuously, holding his hat between his hands, a charming smile on his scruffy face. "I mean, the photos are going to be used for advertisements and the like. That isn't a problem, is it?"

"Not at all." She shook her head cheerfully, offering him her hand. "I'm Seren Lowell, by the way. And if you need help, I can refer you to an advertising specialist a few blocks away. We've worked together before."

"That would be brilliant, thank you!" he replied, that dashing smile widening, as he took her hand and shook it a little too enthusiastically. Normally, he would have kissed it by now and tried to charm her off her feet, but this was a professional call - at least, for now. He couldn't help but notice how pretty she was though, and he'd always had a weakness for redheads.

"Well, come through to my office, Mr. Hadley, and let's see if we can narrow down exactly what it is you're looking for in your photography needs, shall we?" Seren smiled, nodding to her receptionist. "On consult, Layla. This way, Mr. Hadley."

Stepping back, she turned to lead the way into her own office, which turned out to be far larger than he might have expected it to be, sunlight streaming in through the wide factory window on one wall to illuminate an open space that was clearly a portrait set up. It was also a loft, of sorts - the upper level contained her editing studio, complete with computers, printers, desks. The lower level, well - there was no desk in sight. Instead, she drew him over to a wide couch and table, inviting him to sit down with her as she pulled a couple of heavy albums from a shelf. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

Whether he was trying to be polite or not, he couldn't help but toss the receptionist a flirtatious wink just as the boss lady turned her back to lead the way to her office. He followed along at her heels, admiring her backside and the slight wiggle she probably didn't even know she had, as she led him into an open space that seemed half studio, half office. Despite the building's rustic exterior, here, it seemed, she had modern technology at her disposal. "Thanks," he replied as politely as before as he took a seat at the opposite end of the couch, for propriety's sake.

Setting the albums down on the little table, Seren sat herself down near him, not that worried about propriety when it came to work. She produced a notebook and pencil from behind the couch. "So, Mr. Hadley, I assume you have some idea of the kind of shoot you're looking for," she said, warm but definitely professional. "Are you looking for an event shoot, or a portrait shoot?"

"Well," he started, setting his hat aside as he darted a brief but curious glance at her notebook, where he assumed she was going to jot some notes about the upcoming shoot. "I'm sure you already know I'm part of a theater troupe. We're looking to create some posters and flyers and such to advertise some of our productions. I'm not sure how long we'll be here yet, as it depends on how successful we are."

Her lips twitched in amusement. "You're going to rival the Shanachie, are you?" she asked. "I'm sure Ms. De Luca will welcome the challenge." The way she said that suggested she knew the lady in question quite well. "I'll assume your troupe will be providing make up and costumes - you know how you want to be portrayed better than anyone I'm likely to be able to hire, at least. Would you prefer an outdoor shoot, or something in a studio' Or perhaps on your premises, wherever they are?"

"Oh, we're not here to rival anyone or put anyone out of business, Miss Lowell," he paused, that charming smile back in place. "I'm sorry ....Miss" Mrs?" he asked, innocently enough.

"Miss," she told him with a low chuckle. "But Seren will do."

"Ah, Dorian," he countered, pleased she was not spoken for yet - or at least, not married, though that certainly would have posed an interesting challenge. "As I was saying, we aren't here to put anyone out of business. We're a traveling troupe. We'll only be staying so long as we're welcome, and the business is profitable. Besides, there's nothing wrong with a little healthy competition. It keeps people on their toes."

"It's a good season for it," she nodded approvingly. "So you're set on posters. I would recommend set pieces, then, rather than an action shoot, but it's really up to you where you decide to have it done. In a studio, like this one, the lighting and backdrop can be chosen and designed for the best effect, but equally an outdoor shoot makes use of natural light as much as artificial, and can come across as more relaxed."

"I will leave the logistics up to you. You're the expert. I'm only an actor," he said with that disarming smile of his, a hint of dimples beneath the scruffy beard. "We thought Shakespeare for our first production. A comedy, perhaps. Are you fond of Shakespeare, Miss Lowell?" he asked, reaching for one of the albums on the table.

They say that you can tell a lot from a first kiss, and indeed, it is often the hallmark against which relationships live or die. But Seren didn't think she'd ever been kissed like this, with confidence and tenderness and a certain skill that promised an awful lot more confidence if allowed to continue. More than that, it was the man himself that drew her in - the play-actor who seemed to enjoy performing, and yet when challenged, lost the brittle edge of artifice to lay down a challenge of his own that held no sign of deception. But she wasn't the type to be seduced into forgetting her own mind, and it was her own choice that had brought this moment to pass.

Drawing back from him, her lips curved into a smile, her eyes opening to meet his with a moment of sultry promise. "It's a date, then."

His travels had taken him many places, and he had kissed and been kissed by many women, but he couldn't help but notice there was something different about this woman's kiss - or was it simply the thrill of the chase" He'd always been one to revel in the chase, but once the prey had been conquered, he'd grown bored and moved on. There wasn't much point in getting attached, after all, when he knew he wouldn't be staying. He'd yet to meet a woman who could cure him of his wanderlust and make him want to settle down, and yet, there was more to his travels than just a gypsy heart. He didn't think he was imagining the spark between them, sensing something in her eyes that proved she'd felt it, too.

He smiled back, taking a slow breath as she drew away from him. Nothing lasted forever, and it was better not to rush such things, but savor each moment. "Shall I come to collect you in, say, two hours?" he asked, not even bothering to glance at the watch he wore about his wrist.

"That sounds like a very good idea ....Dorian," she agreed, using his first name for the first time. Leaning back, she took up her notebook. "Do you have a contact number, address, or email address I can use to inform of you the proposed package prices?" It was disconcerting how she flipped that switch from rather intimately personal back to professional, but it was confidence-inspiring, too. She definitely did know how to keep personal and professional separate.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a card, which listed the name of the theater company and the principal contacts, including himself. "I'm not so out of touch that I don't have a cellphone," he informed her with a smile. He, too, seemed able to separate the personal from professional side of himself, which was probably why he hadn't romantically attached himself to anyone else in the company.

"Well, that is very good to know," she chuckled, sliding a card out of her back pocket to hand to him after scribbling her personal cell number on the back of it. She swapped his card for hers, setting it in the notebook over the notes she had made. "When do you need your pricings by?" she asked him, needing a starting date to work from.

"How soon can you have them?" he countered, trusting she wouldn't wait too long if she wanted the commission. He thought a week was long enough, but he had long ago learned the art of haggling.

"Pricings don't take too long," she admitted. "Tomorrow, say' And then you can talk it over with your company and negotiate for what you want and what you're willing to pay."

"I'd say that's more than agreeable," he replied, reaching to set the album back on the table and offering her a hand as he moved to his feet. "Until lunch, then," he said, this time lifting her hand to his lips for a brief kiss, though he doubted she'd be too impressed.

Rising, she took his hand, and rolled her eyes as he kissed her knuckles. "Very gentlemanly, I'm sure," she drawled teasingly. "Until lunch. And I can get a headstart on something else in the meantime."

"Nothing gentlemanly about it," he corrected her with a cheeky grin. "Any man who kisses your hand is secretly hoping to kiss your lips," he whispered, as if it was their little secret.

Seren leaned forward, holding his hand as her eyes sparkled with surprisingly wicked laughter. "And which lips would he be hoping to kiss?" she whispered back, letting go with a laugh as she straightened. "Shall I walk you out, Mr. Hadley?"

A lesser man might have been shocked by her words, but Dorian only echoed her laughter, wondering if he'd at last met his match. "I shall leave that for you to ponder, Miss Lowell," he replied, dark eyes sparkling back at her with playful good humor. "That would be lovely, thank you."

Notebook in hand, Seren smiled as she walked him out of the studio and to the reception area. He could certainly give as good as he got, that was for sure. "I'll have those pricings done by tomorrow," she told him as they reached the public area of the building. "And I'll contact you to let you know what decisions have been come to." She cast for a moment to make sure there was nothing else that needed to be said. "And ....I'll see you in a couple of hours."

"It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Lowell," he replied politely enough, with a nod to her receptionist before replacing the hat to the top of his head. "I look forward to our next meeting," he added, not bothering to add that it would only be a few hours before that was to take place, before turning on a heel and heading out the door.

The receptionist's jaw dropped as he walked out, reaching over to poke at Seren's elbow. "Did you just make a date""

Seren merely grinned, winking at Layla, and the woman erupted into a peal of raucous laughter as her boss headed back to her office. No doubt everyone in the studio would know by the time Dorian came back.

Two hours came and went, and true to his word, Dorian returned right on time and on foot. Despite his claims about being at least somewhat modern, what did a traveling actor need a car for when he was part of a caravan' All for one and one for all, and all that. Not wanting to embarrass her again in front of her co-workers and staff, he waited outside, pacing as anxiously as an expectant father.

His wish not to embarrass her was not shared by Layla the receptionist, who took great delight in announcing his arrival over the office intercom as soon as she caught sight of him. "Seren to reception, your boyfriend is here."

A few minutes later, Seren came into sight, throwing a warning look at Layla as she stepped past the desk and out into the sunshine. "Hello again, Dorian."

Thankfully and blissfully unaware of what was going on inside the office, Dorian turned at the sound of her voice, an almost relieved-looked smile on his face. "Hello again, Seren. I wasn't sure if I should wait here or announce myself," he told her, hoping she understood that was more for her sake than his.

"Oh, you were announced," she told him, laughing. She hadn't changed, not even her shoes; someone who spent a good deal of time on her feet was not going to switch sneakers for heels just to impress a man. He was just going to have to put up with her shortness. "According to Layla, you are now my boyfriend. So ....where is my boyfriend taking me?"

He hadn't changed either, still wearing that silly fedora on his head and looking like a mix of fashionable and flamboyant. He chuckled, amused by that thought. "It's been a long time since I was a boy," he reminded, gallantly offering her his arm. "Where would you like to go?" he asked, turning the question back around on her. He wasn't sure how much time they had, but he was willing to give her all afternoon if she wanted it.

Dorian watched as Seren put her charms to work on the hotdog vendor, impressed by her friendly and engaging manner. Then again, she worked with people on a daily basis and had to be friendly if she wanted to get a good photograph. The job suited her, and he decided right then and there that he wanted her to do the photoshoot for the troupe, no matter the price. "I think that might be a bit much. I wouldn't want to scare any of your customers away," he said with a smirk. He wasn't exactly shy, but flashing someone on the park would likely get him arrested.

Chuckling, the woman nodded in agreement. "Honey, if you were my man, everything you've got would be under lock and key anyway," she informed him cheerfully. "What can I get you guys?"

"Well, if you want to see more of me, we'll be playing in the park all summer," he informed her with a cheeky grin. "I'm with a traveling theater troupe. If you haven't heard of us yet, you will soon!"

"Oh, well, only the best for starving artists," the woman laughed. "What do you want, cutie pie?"

Seren bit the inside of her cheek, grinning at Dorian as he was overtly flirted with by a woman who, until a few minutes before, had been all but asleep at her stand. "Yes, cutie pie, what do you want?" she asked playfully.

He eyed Seren with a sidelong glance, clearly amused. She was obviously not jealous, as there was nothing to be jealous of, and he certainly didn't mind the attention. She had an easy-going way with people that he envied, as his was more learned than genuine - all part of the face he wore for the rest of the world. "Two hot dogs with the works and a soda, please," he replied, allowing Seren to order for herself.

"One hot dog, mustard, no onions," Seren ordered, grinning at the way Dorian had somehow managed not to rise to the bait. "Bottle of water, please."

"Sure, kids, coming up."

As the woman got to work putting their order together, Seren snapped a couple more photos of her, before quite suddenly turning the camera onto Dorian to catch him in an unguarded moment.

Once she'd taken the camera out, he'd assumed she'd inevitably snap his picture, and yet, from the look on his face, she'd caught him by surprise. "Are you going to charge me for that or is it a freebie?" he teased, the easy-going smile returning to his face. He wasn't a famous Hollywood actor and wasn't accustomed to cameras being shoved in his face or press following him around, so he didn't really mind her taking a photo, though he wasn't sure what she planned on doing with it.

"I won't charge you for it unless you want to buy a print," she laughed, hanging the camera comfortably about her neck as she reached for her purse. "And even then, I'll do it at cost. This is my personal camera, not my professional one."

"Why the devil would I want to buy a print of myself?" he asked with a chuckle. "I'm not that vain," he said, eyeing her purse suspiciously. "I said it's my treat," he told her, his smile widening. "You can pay next time." Assuming there was a next time. He turned back to the vendor to fish a few bills out of his billfold, only to find his hand was shaking.

"All right, all right," Seren chuckled, tucking her purse away. "I will condescend to be treated by you this time." Laughing, she glanced down as she put her purse back in her bag, catching the shaking of his hand out of the corner of her eye. But again, she didn't say anything, going so far as to cover the moment for him by filling her hands with their food. "Thank you."

He switched hands, shaking it off as though it was nothing more than a minor irritation, before handing the bills to the vendor and telling her to keep the change. Money in Rhy'Din was strange, but he'd found most forms of payment were accepted without question, no matter their origins. The troubled expression on his face was as short-lived as the shaking of his hand, and he hoped no one had noticed. He shoved the billfold back in his jacket and reached for his lunch. "Sorry about that. Sometimes two hands aren't enough."

"Oh gods, tell me about it," Seren chuckled, handing over his 'dogs. She tucked her water into her bag, smiling a goodbye to the vendor as they moved off. "You'd be amazed how much I have to carry around when I'm working."

"I can imagine," he admitted, juggling two hot dogs in one hand and the soda in the other and thankfully not dropping either. He steered her toward the nearest park bench so he could free up his hands and actually enjoy his lunch. "Maybe you should hire an assistant," he suggested mildly.

"Well, it depends on the shoot," she shrugged, following him to his chosen bench. "A portrait shoot with set pieces, even on location, I can handle it myself. An event, like a wedding, that requires two. Some photographers like to try and shoot weddings alone, but there are a lot of things that can go wrong."

"Like what? The bride running off with the best man?" he joked, that silly grin back in place on his face as he settled himself on the bench and set his soda aside so he could take a good bite of his hotdog, which was followed by an almost vulgar moan of pleasure.

Seren laughed, dropping down beside him. "Oh, you'd be surprised at some of the things that have gone wrong at weddings," she grinned. "I once got a great shot of the entire bridal party falling backwards off a jetty. Bride, groom, bridesmaids, the works. They were horrified, but they paid a huge commission on that one picture. Said it summed up the whole day for them - every single one of them is laughing in that photo." She grinned. "But no, I'm talking about equipment failures, or accidental food poisoning at the reception, that kind of thing. These people pay a lot of money for their wedding photos; the least we can do is guarantee they will have at least one fully functioning photographer at their event."

"Question ..." he started, licking a mixture of ketchup and mustard from his lips. "What do you like doing most' Taking candid photos, like you're doing today, or portraits and wedding photos?" he asked curiously. It might seem like an innocuous question, but he thought her answer might say a lot about what kind of person she was.

Chewing her first mouthful, Seren considered that for a moment, wiping mustard from the corner of her mouth with her thumb before she answered. "That's hard to answer," she admitted. "I like catching the moments, but a moment can happen anywhere. In candids, they're more often, but sometimes less meaningful. In set portraits, sometimes you'll hit a conversation topic that brings out something unexpected in your subject, and you'll capture the moment they touch it. I don't really like shooting weddings - it's horrible for the photographer, to be honest. But my favorite photo I ever took was at a wedding. We were doing the set family pieces in front of the church, and I just glanced over, and the two smallest girls in the bridal party were sitting in the middle of the bluebells in the churchyard, playing together. And not a single person minded that I turned around and took a few snaps of them like that."

"But that's a candid shot, Seren," he pointed out. "Even if you're doing a portrait, if you're catching people being themselves, when they don't know you're snapping their picture, that's candid. Anyone can smile for a camera, and anyone can push a button, but it takes a real artist to create a photo that captures someone's personality - someone's life - so perfectly. Like the way you did with the hot dog woman. You brought an unexpected smile to her face and captured it for all time."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't consider myself to be slumming, and no one asked for your opinion," she informed him, rising slowly to her own feet. "What do you want?"

Zane looked her over, and there was a sense of dominance in the way he did so, as though what he saw belonged to him, whether she wanted it or not. "Caught a scent, out near the Brambles farm," he offered with a jerk of his head. "Like yours, but male. Thought you'd want to know."

Seren didn't react openly, but there was a subtle tension in the way she nodded. "Thanks. Now piss off."

Zane smirked, that lecherous, possessive gaze raking over her again as he stepped back. "Don't play with your food, pup," he told her, his eyes snapping to meet Dorian's gaze. Eyes that glowed yellow for a brief moment above a smirk that hinted at lengthened canines. Then Zane shrugged and turned away, walking back through the park the way he had come.

Seren growled under her breath. "Supercilious bastard," she muttered with feeling, thumping back down onto the bench.

To his credit, Dorian stood his ground, hands fisted as his sides. He wasn't a newbie, fresh through the portal from some other world that didn't know anything about the supernatural. And it wasn't the first time someone had decided to judge him and find him lacking, just because he was human. Human or not, Dorian's eyes flashed with malice. Whatever the other man was, he wasn't human, and Dorian was smart enough to recognize a threat when he saw one, not just to him, but to Seren, too. He didn't say anything; he didn't have to, but he wasn't going to back down either. He remained standing, watching as the other man departed. He hadn't failed to notice the inhuman eyes or the gleam of teeth sharp enough to rip open flesh. It was like looking Death in the face, but he hadn't backed down. Dorian was well acquainted with Death already.

Seren sighed as Zane walked away, visibly relaxing at his retreat. She reached out to gently touch Dorian's clenched fist. "I'm sorry about that," she apologized. "He has a bad habit of just showing up when I least want him to."

He slowly relaxed, his fingers uncurling as they brushed against hers, and he very slowly sank back down onto the bench beside her. "What did he mean by that' Don't play with your food?" he asked, turning his gaze back to Seren, a wary expression on his face. "If you're not human, what are you?" he asked pointedly, proving that, as human as he was, he wasn't stupid.

She sighed once again, closing her eyes for a moment. "I'm complicated," she admitted. "Zane was just trying to rile you, you're in no danger from me. But ....I'm a werewolf. Born a werewolf, anyway. Too much inbreeding means that I don't change my shape, ever. Genetically, I'm a werewolf, but I'm always human-shaped."

"A werewolf," he echoed, lifting his brows, but to his credit, he didn't go running for the hills. It was going to take a little time for him to take all that in. "A werewolf who doesn't change shape," he echoed further. He'd never heard of such a thing, but that didn't mean it wasn't possible. "So, who's that?" he asked, jerking a nod in the direction of the departed Zane. "Brother, boyfriend, lover?" He knew she'd told him she was unattached, but they were only words, and maybe Zane had some sort of claim on her that she didn't share.

"He's an asshole who thinks that if he pisses on me and my territory enough, I'll let him mate me," she said, and again, there was a lot of feeling in the way she spoke. More than she might have realized. In tone alone, she had just told Dorian how cornered, threatened, and frightened she was by Zane, without once actually saying the words aloud.

"Do I need to start carrying a silver dagger wherever I go?" he asked, bluntly. Whatever the spell was that had come over them, it had been broken by Zane's unexpected and unwelcome interruption. If Dorian's statement was anything to go by, he wasn't planning on retreating anyway - not just yet.

Seren's gaze flickered in the direction Zane had gone. "I wish I could say no," she said regretfully, shaking her head. "But he's ....unpredictable. He saved my life when I first got to Rhy'Din, his pack put me in a good orphanage. They've kept an eye on me, but Zane's the only one stupid enough to want to mate with me. He's a little unstable." She sighed once more. "Like just now ....he gave me some information that I've been hoping for, but at the same time, he tried to mark territory that doesn't belong to him. Look, I completely get it if you don't want to get involved. I can't shift, I can't protect you from him."

"You think that's what I'm worried about?" he countered, eyes flashing with something that wasn't quite anger, as if she'd wounded him or insulted him with her assumption. "I've dealt with my fair share of bullies before, and that's what he is - a bully. If he wants to underestimate me because I'm human, that's his mistake."

"A bully who can rip you to shreds with claws and teeth, and will do it, the second he realizes that I -" Seren broke off, stopping herself from dropping even more incredible information into Dorian's lap. "I've been on the receiving end of a werewolf in fury," she told him. "And he wasn't even physically shifted. He was human-shaped, and he nearly killed me. Do you think I want to see that happen to you? Do you think I want to know that you've been hurt, or worse, killed, purely because I ....I chose you?"

Dorian blinked. There were a couple of things she was telling him, and he wasn't sure what to remark on first. The knowledge that Zane could rip him to shreds if he wanted to came as no great surprise. He'd never tangled with werewolves before, but he knew what they were capable of. He also knew they were vulnerable to silver, and he was no stranger to blades or bullets. He'd learned early on as an actor that if you wanted to look convincing on stage, you'd better learn the proper way to handle a weapon. And then, she was telling him about her own past, dropping hints about her own story without explaining fully. So, it seemed they both had their secrets, but it was the last thing she said that really caught his attention, that shocked him to the core of his being. "Chose me?" he echoed. "Chose me for what?" he asked, though he could already half guess, if her body language was anything to go by.

Human embarrassment mixed with the confidence of her lupine instincts brought an interesting expression to Seren's face. Guilty warmth filled her eyes as she met his gaze, unable to lie, not to him. "For me," she said simply. "I wasn't joking when I said a lifetime. I'm a wolf. When I mate, it will be for life, and ....the mate I want is you."

Dorian's eyes widened, not with shock so much as amazement, astounded that she'd pick someone like him and only after knowing him a few hours. He couldn't deny that he'd felt the attraction, the connection between them, but it was an impossible situation. It had just been about harmless flirtation. How had it become so serious so quickly' And Zane only complicated matters further. "Seren," he started, as gently as he could. "I'm-I'm flattered. Really, I am, but ....I can't."

The rejection stung, and she made no attempt to hide it from him. But there was no wild display of anger or distress, no performance to drive home how hurt she was. Just a gentle inhalation, a slow exhalation, and the prick of tears to wet her eyes as she nodded, holding his gaze. "I understand," she accepted his words with quiet dignity. "I'm sorry if I overstepped."

"No, you don't," he insisted, reaching for her hands and taking them between his own. How could she understand when he hadn't explained it to her yet' She had been honest with him; the least he could do was return the favor. "It's not what you think. I am flattered. Hell, I'm more than flattered. I know we only just met, but you're not like anyone I've ever met before. You're-you're special. You're beautiful and smart and ....I feel like I can just be myself when I'm with you, but ..." There was that but again. His heart ached to see her so close to tears, but in his own way, he was trying to save her from heartache. "I can't give you a lifetime, Seren, because I don't have a lifetime to give."