"Allow me," Tiberius said all too readily. He thought the delay between his question and her response made it clear that the contact had had the desired effect of making her rethink what was happening, and now that it had served its purpose, he didn't have any particular desire to remain loitering by her side with his hand on her waist. Breaking away from her to fetch a drink gave him enough time to contemplate his next move, which was just what he needed.
He wanted her to keep thinking about what he'd said, and more particularly to keep picturing what they'd done before or what he might be intending to do to her again. If only there was a way to plant pictures in her mind without the overt use of magic. The idea of them being together in the same way that they had been last month made her uncomfortable, that much was obvious, and he presumed that the source of her discomfort was that she didn't want to admit (either to him or to herself) how much she'd enjoyed the interaction. He wanted to continue to use her discomfort against her, but couldn't think of a way to do so. It seemed like cheating to use any sort of spell work on her; she'd just be able to claim later that it had been his magic and not her own desires that had lead them back to that point, if his plan was successful.
At least, if she knew about it. If she was unaware... say, if he cast some sort of charm on her champagne, which she then drank...
Unfortunately, he couldn't think of any spell that would allow him such a great degree of control over the effect. He couldn't enchant a glass of champagne to create scenes in her mind, at least not on the fly in the middle of a party. The best he could think of was placing a spell on the glass that would make her feel increasingly warm — and potentially, he could hope, lead her to thoughts of how uncomfortably stuffy her clothes were, and what might ensue once she was safely home and out of them.
Not that that was coming any time soon, now that she'd made arrangements at her friend's home. Well, that wasn't his concern; it would just lead to a rather uncomfortable evening for Antigone. With a mischevious glint in his eye, Tiberius returned to her side and offered her the enchanted glass of champagne, while holding one he'd procured for himself closer to his chest. "My dear," he said with a slight smirk. She might pick up on the hidden mirth in his tone, but with any luck she wouldn't be able to guess what he'd done until the effects were already well underway.
He wanted her to keep thinking about what he'd said, and more particularly to keep picturing what they'd done before or what he might be intending to do to her again. If only there was a way to plant pictures in her mind without the overt use of magic. The idea of them being together in the same way that they had been last month made her uncomfortable, that much was obvious, and he presumed that the source of her discomfort was that she didn't want to admit (either to him or to herself) how much she'd enjoyed the interaction. He wanted to continue to use her discomfort against her, but couldn't think of a way to do so. It seemed like cheating to use any sort of spell work on her; she'd just be able to claim later that it had been his magic and not her own desires that had lead them back to that point, if his plan was successful.
At least, if she knew about it. If she was unaware... say, if he cast some sort of charm on her champagne, which she then drank...
Unfortunately, he couldn't think of any spell that would allow him such a great degree of control over the effect. He couldn't enchant a glass of champagne to create scenes in her mind, at least not on the fly in the middle of a party. The best he could think of was placing a spell on the glass that would make her feel increasingly warm — and potentially, he could hope, lead her to thoughts of how uncomfortably stuffy her clothes were, and what might ensue once she was safely home and out of them.
Not that that was coming any time soon, now that she'd made arrangements at her friend's home. Well, that wasn't his concern; it would just lead to a rather uncomfortable evening for Antigone. With a mischevious glint in his eye, Tiberius returned to her side and offered her the enchanted glass of champagne, while holding one he'd procured for himself closer to his chest. "My dear," he said with a slight smirk. She might pick up on the hidden mirth in his tone, but with any luck she wouldn't be able to guess what he'd done until the effects were already well underway.