[@Ace of flames01]

There was no room in his emotions for the relief or satisfaction of her answer. His mind instead caught up in all his failings. Grief, guilt, shame. He watched her leave the room, a stoic expression on his face while inside he cringed. What had he just done... Each vivid memory slowly plagued in his mind, so raw, so unrefined, so ungentlemanly. Dorian wanted to consume more of that darkness and just fade away and hide, from her and himself.

A welcoming pain exploded in his arm interrupting his self displeasure. 'The devils toll'. Dorians little display earlier was not to be taken or used lightly. He himself has had to put down a fellow cleaner who could not come back from it. It was defiantly not the thing to be used merely as a house trick or means of impressing display. The wounds that formed one of the names on his arm knotted away as the skin pressed firmly together, it might not look it but that was by far more painful then what came next.

It was like the claw of a large beast, sharp but no knife edge, that repetitively tore against his skin. Scratch after scratch, slice after slice. Slowly pulling the flesh apart to leave letters of a name. The blood soaked into the sleeve of his arm as the fabric became heavy and wet. 

Dorian held the wound, embracing the pain, knowing the blood would soon stop. He didn't much care for the particulars of the name right now instead his thoughts focusing more on Saoirse. But what was done couldn't be undone.

-----

By the time she was ready Dorian had already hauled all of his stuff and some of hers outside. Saoirse might be surprised to see a limo waiting for them out the front but Dorian was nonchalant about the whole thing. On the ride to the airport Dorian sat more then a seat away from Saoirse and did his best to avoid conversation or eye contact. He changed his shirt, checked his papers, retied his shoes, checked unnecessarily on some weapons, made small conversation with the driver. Anything to seem busy. Any questions came back with minimalist answers. 

They arrived at the airport with 45 minutes to spare. Dorian spoke in private to the driver but didn't seem to pay him. In gentlemanly fashion Dorian insisted on assisting Saoirse with her luggage, trying to regain his stature. Their late booking didn't give them ideal seating. They were almost cabins apart. 
[b]"I'll be back in a moment."[/b]
He tells Saoirse, placing down one of his suitcases. Dorian takes both of their tickets and approaches a young blonde female behind a counter. Leaning on the desk he begins a conversation, it is unclear what he was saying but her expression rose from concerned to relieved then her lips grew into a smile before she blushed and later laughed. By the time he was returning to Saoirse with two new tickets the woman behind the counter was watching him leave and twirling her hair.

[b]"That's a bit better, would you like the window seat?[/b]