Misha would smile when the male would plant himself down in front of her. He was enticed by her. And she knew it. Those yellow orbs held hunger when they were staring her down. Misha would raise her brow at his compliment, the brute describing her blue grey orbs as a hypnotic act. She would bow her head, black ebony lips pulling back in a smile. "Why thank you, love. I must say your's are impressive as well. Shining like the sun at high noon, or reflecting like the world's most favored treasures," Misha would say, nodding slowly. It was true, his yellow orbs, a pool of gold in this white wintery scene. It was beginning to get dark, the stars were coming out, the starlight twinkling in the fae's blue grey eyes.
