"Not that I don't appreciate not being raped to death with a dick bigger than I am, you understand. I very much appreciate that and you should keep not doing it."

Giggle.

"...But honestly it kind of feels like you don't care how I feel about you like at all and in some ways wanting to cause me to suffer would be less--frustrating--than that. Not that it would be better on net, given your capacity to make me suffer, but my instincts are calibrated for actual humans."

"Strangely, I don't think I've been accused of not caring how somebody feels about me before! Maybe most people don't expect that from marauding dragons in the first place."

"Not the best way to put it, I guess." She shrugs.

"Anyway, I wouldn't say I don't care. You're really funny when you're disgruntled. And it's new and interesting and kind of charming that you're disgruntled instead of terrified out of your mind."

"Psht, like being terrified would help."

"Most people can't just decide not to be terrified even when it's definitely not helping!"

"My fight-or-flight response knows when it's not wanted."

He laughs again.

"Not that I didn't consider punching you for being an asshole, mind."

"Now that would be new and interesting."

"I decided I wasn't confident enough you wouldn't eviscerate me for it."

"Try it and see," he suggests whimsically.

"Enh, it can wait until the next time you piss me off, my heart wouldn't be in it right now."

"Well, fair enough."

"Although given your stated reason for bringing me here that probably won't take too long."

"And yet, here we are," he says, spreading his hands, "standing on my balcony with all our clothes still on."

"True. I, ah, wasn't assuming that was a stable state of affairs."

"True," he says. "Standing on my balcony forever would get boring after a while."

And he waves a hand at the huge stone doors set into the cliffside. They swing inward, easily wide enough to admit his dragon form, and behind them she can catch a glimpse of a cavernous hall with a vaulted ceiling and wide sweeping stairs. The decor is stunning. He walks inside without waiting to see if she'll follow.

She follows, after a brief stunned pause.

When he's standing at the railing of the balcony's indoor counterpart, looking down on the vast empty space lit by sunlight streaming in through cleverly thinned sections of cliff face, he glances back at her and smiles.

"D'you like my house? I built it myself."

"You are a stunningly talented asshole."

"Thank you!"

"Why do you have to be that pretty and that good at making pretty things, it's unfair."