Lucky for Xander, she is home for the first time in weeks or more. She's spent the day dusting and cleaning up messes left behind from before she had attended the Soiree. Dresses lined up on her bed while she had painstakingly decided which one would be the nicest. Which one might draw his attention.

And when she's finished tidying up, the front door knocks.

At first, fear grips her. It sucks away her breath and her strength and her hands shake as she glances over her shoulder to see the shadow behind the window. Dread makes her hesitate, makes her glance around her kitchen for a weapon.

But she tells herself to breathe and to think-- she has an appointment today with a certain Xander Belmont. It was likely him at the door, and not another assassin. Assassins wouldn't knock on the front door.

So she answers it, offers a convincing smile, and inclines her head.

"Hey, Xander. Yes, they did. Mentioned you are to be my shadow for a while, right?"

Xander Belmont

☉

His lack of friendliness doesn't deter her, rather, the art supplies strapped to his back do. It makes her do a double-take, glancing from the supplies to his stoic expression.

"You're not here to.. paint me, are you?"

But that doesn't appear to be the case, given his apparent lack of knowledge on why he was here. By asking for instruction or direction, the pieces start to fall into place. For a moment, it makes the woman's blood boil.

"So by 'shadow me' they really meant, 'keep an eye on her'. Great. In that case, you can go home, Xander. I don't need a babysitter."

And then she promptly moves to close the door on him, though there was plenty of room for him to wedge his foot in and stop her if he chose to.

Xander Belmont

☉

The door catches, pinching his foot. Did it hurt? She doesn't seem to care, only turns her head when she doesn't hear the door click behind her. There should have been a slam -- and instead? Perhaps a grunt of pain.

"Oh, you can leave. I can dismiss you, and you are free to go and do whatever you please."

The woman continues to frown, irritation crawling across her features.

"I'm not a child, as much as the League might often treat me as such."

And the fact he referrs to her as babysitting him frankly doesn't make it any better. To suggest that he be the incompetent one instead of her, that he be the one she watch and coddle and protect? Somehow, that felt worse.

"Tch."

Stormy glances away, only to look back with renewed confusion at his offer. Briefly, the woman blushes before answering.

"No, that's.. no. I don't want you to paint me. That's weird."

Xander Belmont

☉

Stormy frowns, unconvinced. Although shhe probably thought of herself as more of a child than anyone else ever had, the notion still stood. Her own opinion of herself outweighed anything anyone said about her. It always had.

The tension is wiped away, however, with Xander's insistence on a portrait. She glances back at his paint supplies, then back up to his face. She appears confused, maybe a little flattered, and a lot overwhelmed.

"Uhh.. nope. Can't say I have. Seems a bit.. weird and.... intimate. Where would I even put it? Who keeps paintings of themselves?"

And if they didn't keep it, who did they give it to?

Xander removes his foot from the door and she lets it gently swing open, as by now she's decided to let go of her iron grip on closing it. The woman tilts her head, unsure what to do or say. His enthusiasm and eagerness outweigh her nerves, however, and she eventually relents.

"Fine. Just don't make it weird."

She steps away from the door and makes her way past the living room.

Xander Belmont

☉

"Hmm," she hums, not sure what more to say. The thought of getting ones portrait painted seemed frivolous and bizarre. Photographs sufficed, really, and hanging ones likeness up in their house just seemed.. odd.

But she agrees because he seems invested in giving it a go. To some degree, there is something flattering about the whole thing. The fact that he wanted to and had offered was sort of sweet.

Awkwardness once again settles over her, leaving her tense. She searches for a cozy place to sit and seems at a loss. She looks to Xander, shrugs meekly. "Any suggestions?"

Xander Belmont

☉