I.NNOCENCE>> [closed; AW]

[Michkayela Drakonas]

[x][x]
You see it from the outside
You're running toward the wall
Swinging from your blind side
But you don't know me at all

It was typical of life to go from extremely busy to exceedingly boring within a matter of days. The past few weeks had tester her patience with all the travelling that she’d been doing on her grandmother’s behalf. From old family friend’s houses to luxurious hotels in Paris and Italy, even so far as China. No matter the setting though, it was still the same drill. There were any number of people to be wined and dined, the diplomatical proceedings executed with a practiced perfection. And to each one of them she was to deliver a non-descript, brown parcel, neatly tied with the recipient’s name in her grandmother’s elegant scrawl. Not that she knew what she was delivering- no, that would come in time. Besides diplomat and page-boy she’d also been sent to garner information, all of which had to be done both discreetly and thoroughly. Busy was, as usual, an understatement. She hadn’t been home to her flat in close to a month and a half with all the jet-setting she’d been sent about to do, and when she had returned back she’d gone immediately back to the family manor to report to her grandmother- a grueling two days if there ever was. And then she was dismissed- it was over. Just as quickly as her grandmother had summoned her, she sent her away again- duty done. So on the eve of her leaving she’d employed her grandmother’s house-elf Frida to help her dress one last time before she returned home. The elf had capable fingers, long practiced in what she was hired to do, and knew her place enough to keep her mouth shut when going about her business. Michkayela had the sneaking suspicion that her grandmother’s house wouldn’t run quite so smoothly without the old elf. She was all set to return back to her flat, somewhat of a letdown after all the moving about- even if she didn’t particularly enjoy the work. Back to the flat to catch up on her mail and what she’d missed while she was gone. First though, she needed a drink…

It was how she found herself walking down Alzubra Alley, the shadows dancing across the buildings surrounding her, heels ringing out against the cobbled street. The quarter moon just barely shone out from behind the dark clouds, casting an eerie dimension onto the street below. Eerie or not though, her feet knew her destination; taking the turns before her as she set her mind to other things. She wasn’t looking to go anywhere under the radar, or to conduct any sort of business that needed a certain atmosphere. She just wanted to sit and relax with a drink or two, without all the moving about… Which is what made the Mirage Lounge her perfect destination. She turned into the run-down doorway easily, casting one backwards glance over her shoulder before she disappeared inside. She stood just inside the doorway for a minute, letting her eyes adjust to the difference in lighting and getting her bearings. Her dark skinny jeans were chosen well, catching the lighting and off-setting the dressy black shirt that was partially hidden under her black leather jacket. Frida had lathered straightening tonic through her hair and brushed it until the dark locks shone expertly, framing her face with an expert care. Her pale eyes were liberally lined in black kohl, her lashes lengthened considerably with mascara. Overall it was stunning in its simplicity and earned her a few admiring glances as she made her way to the bar, her stride purposeful. She wasn’t here to stand in the doorway after all.

Ten minutes and two glasses of firewhiskey later found her sitting in a semi-secluded corner of the room with a jug of the drink on the table in front of her. Her right leg was extended in front of her, her left tucked up underneath her body. She had angled her body so as that her back was tucked into a corner of the couch, facing out. Not that she was unreasonably suspicious of anything, she really had no cause, it was just more comfortable that way. And a far better view of the room at large. She brought the glass within her hand back up to her lips once more, the amber liquid burning its way down her throat. Bored didn’t even begin to cover it.


Tagged; Ashton Wentworth

Ooc; Sorry it's so short and crappy darling. I'll get into it better after I get my feel back. (:

[Ashton Wentworth]

His hand clutched at his chest as his feet slammed down against the cobbled street. It was certainly strange to see a full grown man bolting down the streets of Alzubra. There weren’t many people out and out at this time of night, for that he was thankful. He didn’t have to bob and weave between too many different bodies. It seemed like he was getting in a lot of cardio lately, between his late night rendezvous’ and finally being able to get back to work and go on assignment. He had been out tonight actually, which would explain the running. He felt like his lungs were about to burst and his veins were pumping battery acid. For a smoker like him that was just about the last situation that he had wanted to find himself in. He had been working on a lead for his current ‘special’ case that Rutherford had sent him on whenever things got sour. His shirt was torn, leaving the whole lower half of his torso exposed with angry red lines running across the space below his navel and above the waist of his jeans. His jacket flowed behind him freely, he had no idea if he was still being followed or if there was ever anybody chasing him to begin with, he didn’t want to risk taking a look behind him to see. There weren’t any screams so he was sure that he must have lost them. Whatever their names were. Whenever he body listened to his pleas to slow down, he was just going to have to deal with the strange looks that he was getting from the people around him. His target must have gone home, not wanting to shed their identity into the light of day, but at least he had something to report back to the office. Slowing to a jog he let his boots fall heavy on the stones, his chest heaving, lungs wheezing. This must be how people with Asthma felt. Slowing to a brisk walk and finally halting his hand lowered from his chest as his torso bent at the hips and his hands rested on the tops of his thighs as Ashton struggled to catch his breath. It wasn’t until he was able to extract a cigarette and ignite it with shaking fingers that he paused long enough to chance a glance behind him, it didn’t seem like there was anybody there. Glancing up at the door he had found himself right in front of the Mirage Lounge. It used to belong to a dorm mate of his, while he had no idea if he still owned it or if he had disappeared over the past few years like everybody else seemed to have, taking one last long drag from the cigarette he ducked inside, flicking the butt into the street, extinguished by the steps of passing people. Better to be safe than sorry.

The live music tonight was soft in nature, but he needed something to give him a cover story, he didn’t want to run the risk of somebody coming after him and spotting him sitting alone, dragging him out back and doing whatever they pleased in their beastly ways. Cringing at the thought he grasped at the two corners of his plaid hooded sweatshirt he pinched them closed and yanked the zipper up so that it covered the missing bits of his shirt, he didn’t need the people inside of the bar giving him odd looks as well, it would be a dead giveaway. Running his hands down his face to attempt to bring some color back to it, and allowing them to run up to his hair, making it stick up at even more random angles that it had been before. Checking the door once more he let his hands drop to his sides as he made his way further into the establishment, he was too jumpy to act calm on his own. The people had really rattled his cage, something that was not easy to go. Spotting a female sitting on her own he headed straight into her booth, without an invite or waiting to introduce himself, he sat down at the seat across from her that was not occupied by her feet. Smiling as brightly as he could he gave her a once over, he definitely could have picked a worse table to find himself at. He just was one of the lucky ones. “How you doing?” He worked to steady his breathing, not wanting his words to come out rushed or appear like a mouth breather “Hope you don’t mind” He used his hand to motion to the table and to himself, as if to explain that he was going to be sitting here now. Grabbing an extra glass he helped himself to some of the liquor on her table, swallowing it in one gulp and placing the cup back down. His face recoiled as the potent liquid hit his otherwise empty stomach, tasted like hell but steadied his hands. “I’m Ashton by the way” he offered a hand in her direction; his chest was starting to slow, breathing becoming more normal. Thank Merlin for all those extra gym trips that he had been logging in effort to keep in shape during his suspension; it had certainly paid off tonight

[Michkayela Drakonas]

[x][x]
I've been here too many times before
And your tears don't mean a thing
I only come when you scream, I told you

There was something almost voyeuristic about watching other people go about their business, without them knowing you were doing so. Not that she derived any sexual pleasure from it or any pleasure at all really. It was just entertaining to watch the actions and reactions without the annoying dialogue behind it, or the need to reply to whatever inane thing that they were saying. From the perspective of an outsider she could make up whatever scenario she wanted, create her own little play. Each person had a back-story and a personality that had absolutely nothing to do with the actual character themselves. It was good for entertainment value. And if she could hear what they were saying it was always a study in the human complexities. The philosophy itself was probably why she felt no shame in watching the party located nearer the center of the room, a few seating areas away from where she herself was located. The two females were statuesque, with platinum, expertly coifed hair. Their voices were pestiferous in the extreme; high pitched and with an artificial airiness that bordered on manipulative. Their companions were a good deal older, their salt and pepper hair highlighted in the dim lighting. Their suits were obviously custom made, and the way they were throwing their money around solidified the image that they were hoping to cast. The female closest to her view leaned over dramatically, stooping to catch something in a poorly calculated advance that resulted in her already low-cut dress sliding even lower. Which, judging by the insincere sheepish expression she assumed, had been her intent the entire time. Micha snorted in disgust, flipping her hair up out of her face as she did so. Pathetic. Even if she didn’t agree with what it was they were doing, or the absolute desperation that would drive a female to do something like it, she would have harbored a bit more respect if they had actually been good at it. Their manipulation was sloppy, their moves unpracticed. The only reason it was working at all was that they’d targeted simple men. Which, she supposed, showed that they at least knew which marks to make. And it seemed that the men were now taking their cues. A handful of dollar bills was thrown onto the table where they were seated, their chairs scraping clumsily back over the flooring in their haste to get up. A wry twist fell upon her lips as she watched the group make their way clumsily to the door, her hand reaching automatically out for the tumbler that held her drink, pouring it without really taking notice, her attention still on the people moving towards the entrance. I mean really- if that was what it took to get some male attention she could do without it. She may not have had very many opportunities in which to see if there was any other way to make it work- actually, apart from the one failed relationship she’d had her fifth year with her gay bestfriend, her experience with the opposite sex in that capacity was nonexistent. Which, if judging by what she’d seen, wasn’t that bad of a thing.

Her eyes followed the group as they bumbled their way out onto the street beyond, just barely passing someone entering. From the distance the figure was she couldn’t see it was anything beyond male, making random movements with his clothing and hair. Whatever it was he was doing, without a clearer picture there was no use watching him. She angled her body back again, pulling her purse up from the floor with the toe of her boot and grasping it with both hands, digging disinterestedly around in it until she pulled out a small black case. Flipping open the lid she seized on the cylindrical instruments from within, depositing both case and purse back to the floor in one fluid movement. Her fingers brought the paper up to her lips, the end of the cigarette sparking up instantly as she brought it into her mouth, greedily pulling out the nicotine that rested within. After a long drag she let her hand fall, her eyes resting on the liquor bottle in front of her before she let the smoke filter slowly out of her system. It was the most likely explanation for her missing the figure she’d noticed earlier until he sat himself across from her. Even with it though she couldn’t help but feel slightly galled at letting it pass her, and more than a little irritated. It wasn’t like he’d snuck up or anything.

She tilted her head slightly to the right as she took him in, his face sparking some sort of recognition in the back of her brain. She pushed it away as his words started to form, her cool smile none the warmer with his brightness. The fact that his grammar was so appalling didn’t phase her as much as it might have had they been in a different setting, didn’t mean she needed to reply though. And anyways, he was already going on, and she wasn’t going to backtrack. “Not that it would matter if I did apparently.” Despite the words her inflection held no bite or admonishment. Her slender shoulders rolled back in a shrug as she took another drag off her cigarette. It didn’t really bother her. He had to be better entertainment than watching the pathetic group that had just left. And if he proved not to be he could leave, she sure as hell wasn’t exiting on account of someone. He was, after all, the one who had appeared without invitation. Ashton. Of course, that would explain the recognition and why it hadn’t occurred to her instantly. He was a few years her senior, but they had shared the same house. She lent forward slightly, her hand clasping firmly around his shaking it twice before releasing it once more. “Michkayela. What brings you to the Mirage Lounge Ashton? … Or more specifically my table?” She let her back fall once more into the corner of the couch, resting her shoulder blades against the upholstery without pretense. Niceties weren’t her thing, though she knew how to pull them off. Obviously, she’d had more than enough practice growing up. But seeing as she didn’t really know her conversational partner… and that starting right into whatever random subject had entered her head was hardly kosher the niceties would have to do.

[Ashton Wentworth]

His eyes kept wandering back in the direction of the door every few moments, lucky that he was angled toward the entrance or else it would have looked shifty. Smiling behind the glass as he took another long drink and filled up his glass a second time, he hoped that she wasn’t about to shove him from the table or make him pay for it, he wasn’t sure if his hands were steady enough to pull coin out of his pocket just yet. However, if he was allowed to take some more, they would be more than steady shortly enough. There was something about the firewhiskey that he adored, normally he liked to sip on it, taking drinks over the course of a meal or during conversation but now, he just needed the heat to be brought back to his limbs and quickly, with the rate that he was consuming the liquor it tasted like rubbing alcohol, it was most unpleasant. Whenever he had become familiar enough with the entrance he allowed himself to breathe again, Rutherford, his boss was not going to be very happy with him tomorrow morning; he was not going to want to hear that the beasts had turned on him, nor that they chased him out. He had no desire to become one of them or die, so he had been forced to flee. Easing into the back of the chair he brought his full attention to the woman in front of him, noting her leather jacket with an easy smile. At least she had good taste, a girl after his own heart. “Not that it would matter if I did apparently.” Since she wasn’t refusing his company, he let the comment slide. He was still working to let his heart rate slow, and the feeling to come back to his feet and legs. Even with the addition of workouts into his daily routine, he had not been prepared for that much cardio, not wanting his whole body to fail he refrained from whipping out a second cigarette to join her in smoking, even if his lungs begged for him to. It took far more concentration to keep from melting into the chair he was sitting in to bother adding another task into the mix.

“Michkayela. What brings you to the Mirage Lounge Ashton? … Or more specifically my table?” At the mention of her name he remembered a far younger version of her from school, while they didn’t have any classes together nor were they in the same room, she had eyes that were not easily forgotten. This was good, he could pass it off like he had a meeting with an old friend that he just couldn’t bear to pass up and that was his reason for leaving so suddenly, she wouldn’t be able to deny that he had come in and sat with her, he hoped that if it came down to it, she wouldn’t flake and be one of those horrible people that didn’t know how to go along with such an obvious lie. She had certainly grown up, aside from the regular changes like height and hair length, she had matured, it was overall more than appealing. “Michkayla, of course” his smile shifted into a smirk, not even attempting to cover up the obvious scan of her figure. Looking in the direction of the bar he wiggled his fingers to get attention and pointed to the decanter in the middle of the table, hoping for a refill so that he would be able to continue to indulge himself. Whiskey was his cure all and his end all. Whenever he could feel his heart pumping blood to revive the feeling in his extremities he lifted his hips off of the seat to better be able to reach into his pocket for his cigarette pack, it was crushed around the edges but hopefully the goods would be alright, his pants were too tight to be running like that, he was surprised that he didn’t have some sort of friction burn. As his body cooled off, he was thankful for the fact that he was missing a portion of his shirt. The cocktail waitress brought over a replacement decanter, topping off their respective glasses with the remainder, setting the cigarettes on the table and reaching for his lighter and coin he pressed more than enough to pay for the liquor and a tip into the palm of her hand. Extracting a cigarette from his soft pack he placed it on his lips, reaching for the lighter he cupped one hand over the tip and ignited the end, placing the lighter down on the table with his cigarettes.
“Where have you been hiding these many years?” his hand gesturing to her body, and pushed her cup closer to her with a laugh, just because they hadn’t known each other back in school but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t attempt to know her now, if memory served she wasn’t much of one for small talk, but he didn’t have anything to talk to her about, and he was legally restrained from telling her exactly why he had come to be sitting across from her, so he could only hope that this would do.

[Michkayela Drakonas]

[x][x]
Just d o n ' t follow me home

Her cigarette was quickly becoming shorter between her fingers and she found herself wanting to get the next one ready- though she managed to keep her hands steady, away from her purse. You would think it was every day that some strange guy came out of breath and crashing into her night- although really how else was she supposed to react? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been front row for even stranger nights. She watched as his perusal of her figure with a small smile gracing the corner of her lips. It wasn’t that she was necessarily conceited or anything- she knew she looked good, that wasn’t the issue. Just because she was an ice cold bitch didn’t mean she wasn’t still female. And every female found it somewhat flattering to have an attractive male appreciate what it was that they put forward, especially when there was no agenda behind it as there so often was in her life. Ashton didn’t even know her though- so flattering fit it rather well. Although flattered or not didn’t stop her from speculating about his appearance into the Lounge so suddenly. Asking didn’t seem like it would lead anywhere though. Either he’d lie outright because whatever it was that had gotten him in such a state was either highly embarrassing or illegal, or it would be so deafeningly boring as to not be worth it. For all she knew he could have just saved a little old lady from a mugger. Or run out of some married woman’s apartment after being caught by her volatile husband. Or maybe he was involved in some illicit drug ring that had just had their warehouse raided. She was brought out of these musings by the movement of his fingers, her own eyes glancing over at the bar as one of the waitresses started detaching herself from another customer and making her way over to their area. She wasn’t going to complain at his ordering any more whiskey- even if she ended up paying for it. The truth is that she would have gotten a refill eventually when it came around to it. And if she was sharing it… well she had more than enough money to go around as long as he was interesting enough. She straightened her extended leg a little more, flexing it at the ankle before curling it up underneath her body with the other, it didn’t seem like she would be leaving anytime soon and it didn’t hurt for her to be comfortable. She barely wasted a glance for the waitress as she topped of her drink, nodding absently to her as Ashton pressed the money into her hand- Which, she surmised easily enough, meant that she wouldn’t be paying for this round at least. Although she made a mental note of it just in case he was around for the next round- if there was even a next round. Trading off on rounds didn’t sound like too bad of an idea. Unless he couldn’t hold his liquor. She felt her lips twist absently at the thought, it was always a disappointment when she could drink men twice her size under the table. She picked her glass back up amicably and took a swig, delighting in the inflammation that instantly took up residence back in the back of her throat. It was always like greeting an old friend, that flame that spread past her lips and down through her toes. She kept a hold of her glass, her pinky finger absently tracing the glass it was resting upon.

Hiding? Hardly, although she supposed the fact that they didn’t run into each other meant that they were holding different circles. How did you answer that question with a family like hers though? ‘Oh I’ve been running around doing my grandmother’s dark errands and making sure that the palms are greased and alliances kept. On top of making sure her illegal deals are orchestrated as she wants and scoping out the current political battle and trying to figure out which side we should be backing?’ … hardly. She smiled easily and swirled the liquid in her glass though. “Well, I graduated. Obviously. Since then I’ve just been helping my Grandmother manage her estates and family affairs. I haven’t … quite found what it is I should be doing other than that yet.” Not that she’d have time for a whole hell of a lot more. “What about you Ashton? You seem a bit ah… taller since I last saw you.” The right corner of her mouth edged up in a small smirk as she said such, her eyes doing her own study of his features.

[Ashton Wentworth]

Ashton's index finger ran along the rim of the glass he had just been handed, he was careful to keep the cigarette that was wedged between that finger and the one next to it from dropping ashes into the beverage. That wouldn't do at all. Then he would be forced to get himself a replacement glass, meaning that in turn he would have wasted a while glass of the whiskey. Normally, if he had had a few more drinks in him and he did ash in his drink by accident, he still would have drank it. He might not have even noticed the invaders floating around in the liquid. As it was currently, he was sober and very well aware of the contents of his glass. Perhaps with some more time, both of them would be able to have looser tongues and be in that pleasant 'I don't give a damn' state right before getting really hammered. “Well, I graduated. Obviously. Since then I’ve just been helping my Grandmother manage her estates and family affairs. I haven’t … quite found what it is I should be doing other than that yet.” With an answer like that, he wasn't surprised that they hadn't run into each other yet. He didn't fancy having to spend excessive amounts of time with the elderly, but if it was something that she enjoyed doing well them all the better for her. He was willing to assume that if Ashton had ever had a grandmother that he knew about he would have avoided her at every chance. He had heard rumors about people's grandmothers. They all tended to either be overbearing or smell funny. Even the nicest ones like to peddle butterscotch like it was going out of style, and they always managed to smell like moth balls. The bad ones, well from what he could gather they always attempted to tell one how to live their lives and pushed useless junk onto their relatives. Ashton preferred the company of the young and the nubile. They were a far better time, and could hold their liquor. Plus they didn't need those diapers that crinkled whenever they walked. Just another thing that Ashton couldn't stand, the elderly. For that, he was almost glad that he didn't have any family. “Well If that's what you're into. All the better for you”

He half toasted her by means of only just tipping his glass in her direction before taking another large gulp. The burning in his throat was doing wonders to distract from the burning in his lungs and legs. If he went to stand up now, he was fairly certain that he would just topple straight over since his legs were going to be out of commission for a good long while. At least until he could get a little more liquid motivation into his system. “What about you Ashton? You seem a bit ah… taller since I last saw you.” He could feel her eyes on him, and that was just fine. He had nothing to be ashamed of and liked it whenever he knew a female was looking. Most of all whenever they were as attractive as the one sitting opposite from him. It had been very fortunate indeed that he had just happened to plop down at this particular table. It was turning his night from a nightmare into something actually almost promising. He heard himself almost laugh and he caught himself. “Well I graduated too, obviously” He repeated her words back to her, taking another drink to empty his glass. “I don't think that I've gotten too much taller, bigger maybe” he let her take that how she wanted to. He had started working out since he had gotten his job at the ministry. Being a chain smoker like he was, just meant that he needed to work even harder to keep his lungs up to par and strong. Or else he wouldn't have been able to do the amounts of running that he had just been doing outside. He would have been puppy chow and out the other end before he had even known what had happened to him. Luckily for all of the extra training and the running that he did in his free time, not to mention extra ah, cardio that he indulged in frequently, he hadn't ever felt better in his life. He wasn't ashamed to say that he was in excellent shape, with the exception of his liver of course.

“I've just been working really. Making a living” He said while pulling the decanter closer to his body. He lifted out the stopper and helped himself to a full glass this time. He didn't have the patience tonight for that pretty half full only a sip's worth in the glass at one time nonsense. He wanted to feel better, he was going to need to do some very heavy drinking. He was aware that he was coming off as rather boring, and without giving her any details he would see just as vanilla as the next guy. If only she could know his real job, then she might be impressed, even a little bit would have been enough to work with. Replacing the topper to the decanter he slid it back in her direction. “Don't worry, I become more fun after a few more of these” He joked, lifting his glass into the air once more and taking another large gulp. It felt like he was attempting to bore a hole into the back of his throat and it was wonderful. “So what sorts of things is your grandmother having you do exactly? Nothing to compromise your honor I expect”

[Michkayela Drakonas]

[x][x]
You're just too ^perfect for my hands to hold
If you choose to stay
You'll throw it all away
And I just want to take your i n n o c e n c e

Was it what she was into?

It was a question she had been asking herself lately. She wasn’t necessarily into being the errand boy that her grandmother had cast her into the role of- jet setting out to whatever foreign location it was that her grandmother deemed her needed at that point in time. And she didn’t exactly fancy all the people her grandmother kept company with, or keeping them happy with the deals that had been previously worked out. Greasing the palms of whatever associates that her grandmother hadn’t got around to personally yet, or those that were too low to have dealt with her grandmother personally at all. She didn’t enjoy the frivolous conversations and useless social banter that she had to master in order to keep everyone placated. She didn’t enjoy the constant movement, never a moment’s relaxation. However, she did like the thought heading the family affairs herself one day. She liked the travelling, and the managing of affairs suited her. Even when she didn’t like it. She knew what to do and how to handle it, and that was more than most people got in even dream jobs. She was in a transitory position- one that had she been in a ‘real’ job working under someone else would be considered on the job training. In reality it was a not so subtle grooming that had been begun ages before she was even aware of what it was that she was being put up to do. Her grandmother’s hands held the keys to the fortunes of their family- to the allowances paid out to various family members, to the numerous estates and heirlooms held in their name. Her grandmother’s name inspired both fear and respect to those who knew her, or of her, well enough. It was a legacy, and one which Micha fit into perfectly. While ideally she would be heading the entire world, all bowing to her every whimsical command, it wasn’t plausible. She was female for one- and while females had moved much further in the society of today, there were still too many problems. There would be the men who refused to bend- chauvinist pigs as they were, the women who refused to take her seriously for her sex… too many issues to arise. For another being the public figurehead of a resistance came with one too many rules and regulations which she had no intention of ever following- too many confinements, regardless of what the popular opinion was. She’d much rather be behind the scenes, able to do what it is that she wanted without worrying overly much about the consequences of her actions and the several different people who would claim a say in such matters. She liked the ability to choose who she was backing from far enough away to still see things somewhat objectively, without the added mess of entangled emotional affairs. So maybe it wasn’t what she was ‘into’, but it fit. She smiled somewhat cynically and brought the glass up to her lips. “It works,” she half shrugged as she tipped the bottom of the class up, taking in a mouthful of the whiskey before setting it to rights again. “What does it matter what your into when you’re good at it?”

She dipped her head in acceptance of his raised glass, her lips tilting at the corners ever so slightly. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the fact that their conversation was so undemanding but she found herself relaxing back into her couch, shoulders falling into a more comfortable stance as she heard her own words thrown back at her. Well yes- she seemed to remember still being at school when he had obviously graduated. Again the corners of her lips twitched and again she brought the glass to her lips to cover the movement. The last of the fiery liquid slipped down her throat, the last few drops clinging to her lips as she let the glass fall, her fingers passing it to the table, setting it carefully down. What she was not counting on were his next words. A surprised chuckle burst up through her pharynx and out through her lips, her fingers slipping off the lip of the glass and tumbling it slightly. Maybe she was a bit more perverted than the average person who walked in through the doors of this lounge, and maybe she’d taken his statement completely out of context- but the way in which it was uttered was amusing, and she was well on her way to her sixth glass. While not drunk- it was still buzzed enough to make a difference. She let the smile linger on her lips as she swung her legs out from underneath her, leaning forward and across the table to grasp the decanter in one hand, pulling it along the surface towards her as she shook her head slightly. “Well time does seem to benefit some more than others.” Her voice was politely neutral, the hint of a smile visible even in her words. She was far more entertained than she had counted on originally- and her companion was proving to be a good distraction from other problems and an amusing conversationalist. She righted her glass- placing it firmly in one place before lifting the decanter and refilling her glass. With a disinterested movement of her fingers she pushed the firewhiskey back to the middle of the table before leaning back with her cup, curling her legs up again once more underneath her.

“Working?” She refrained from questioning the second part of his answer. Money was, in the long list of things she could be snobby over, surprisingly absent. She’d seen fortunes change both ways one too many times to count it as something that was absolutely necessary. That being said she didn’t know how she’d actually react were her family to lose the riches they had acquired throughout the years. “What is it that you do for a living Mr. Wentworth?” She laughed at his admission, looking at the glass in her hand rather quizzically. “I don’t know about more fun, but I’m most definitely more relaxed.” And using phrases she normally wouldn’t. Where the hell would most definitely come from anyways? She held back a sigh and tuned in just in time to hear his question. Compromise her honor? Well that would depend on how he defined honor. “Nothing quite so devious no, compromising my honor would mean compromising her own, no such luck,” she concluded with another swallow. “I spend the majority of my time travelling for her and um… keeping family alliances up to par, making sure our estates in other areas are not compromised. Finances... Those sorts of boring things.” Which wasn’t quite a lie, but wasn’t quite the truth either. It would work for now though.

[Ashton Wentworth]

It was entrancing, just watching her. It was like every movement that she made was to only invite him to state at her. He couldn't help but wonder what it was that she was thinking. Since she seemed to calculate her words, what wasn't she saying? He had a feeling that there was a mountain that she was keeping to herself, and only allowing him the smallest words possible to keep the conversation going. “It works,” The real question was why. Was she talking down to him because she didn't think that he was really one for talking or just all together unintelligent, or was she really just keeping to herself because she didn't want him to know. He supposed that he couldn't really admonish her for either but it was curious. He wanted to know, the dirty truth. It tended to be more interesting but since he wasn't willing to give up any information about himself or any of the realities of what he had been doing since graduation, he didn't pry. He followed her gaze as it left his face, enthralled. Why hadn't they ever really spoken before? He could remember her from his past, obviously, but nothing really stood out. Most of his days had been spent in a stupor so he might just be blacking her out. Those days had just been a blur. He followed her motions, lifting his glass to his own lips just as she was doing the same, watching her over the brim. “What does it matter what your into when you’re good at it?” He sputtered, choking down the whiskey with a smile and nodding. “I think you have a good point there” He felt like a child, laughing at the innuendos. Even if she hadn't meant it that way.

It was good to hear her laugh. In the midst of his ever expanding and demanding work load, he didn't get too much spare time. Even if he had, spending it with an attractive young lady of whom he had the power to make laugh, was certainly on his top five lists of ways to spend his time. The others might have been more enjoyable in certain contexts but this way, was just the gateway to the others. Most people would call him monosyllabic, as he doesn't tend to talk very much and whenever he does Ashton has a tendency to stumble his words to the point that they make more sense in his head. Relaxed conversation suited him, gave him the opportunity to listen if she was willing to talk. If there was no talking going to happen, well then he could think of a few other things that she could do with her lips. “Well time does seem to benefit some more than others.” He smiled broadly, choosing to let the topic die before he carried it a little too far. In his youth, he would have burnt that bridge into the ground until she either gave in, or was too drunk to really protest. He hadn't been drinking enough to become belligerent himself just yet, but soon he assumed that he would have. Then he might get himself in trouble. Best to lay the groundwork for pleasant conversation now. Or whatever else.

“Working?” He nodded as a response, tipping his glass to motion that he wasn't going to respond. She still had the floor if she chose to use it. If not, then he could just keep drinking. He was nursing his drink now, another thing that he wouldn't have done in his youth. He would have called out an individual for babysitting, but then he was all about just the buzz, whereas now he enjoyed the taste. He took another sip before putting the glass on the table and leaning back against the booth, letting his hands fall forward into his lap. “What is it that you do for a living Mr. Wentworth?” He didn't want to be crude or vague, but there was no legal way that he could answer that. He lifted his shoulders to his ears and lowered them back down again, his face playful “I could tell you...but It's more fun to guess” Which was a half truth. He couldn't tell her, without literally having to kill her. Since his job was a secret department that had only the one member, that was created just for him by the Minister or Magic himself. There was a good chance, that even if he did tell her she wouldn't believe him. It was pretty crazy sounding, the truth often was pretty hard to believe. She would probably just think that he was a bartender or something. That was more feasible for somebody to believe that had known him back in school.

“I don’t know about more fun, but I’m most definitely more relaxed.” It took him about two seconds before letting his mind slip down into a very dark place and he smiled, quickly raking his palm down his face to cover his smile and to keep him from laughing. He allowed his hand to stop where it was, still covering his mouth as his brain went over various scenarios. She had brought this upon herself whenever she laughed at his earlier comment. What had begun, cannot be undone. “Nothing quite so devious no, compromising my honor would mean compromising her own, no such luck,” Compromising her own? Her grandmothers? His brow furrowed, and he leaned forward to place his elbow on the table, palm still covering his mouth. Waiting.

[/i]“I spend the majority of my time traveling for her and um… keeping family alliances up to par, making sure our estates in other areas are not compromised. Finances... Those sorts of boring things.” [/i] Well, that sounded like a lie. At the very least a half truth but he said nothing. Allowing the opportunity to call her out on it come and go. Instead, he reached across the table to the decanter and topped off both of their glasses before wiggling in his seat to access his pocket until he produced his slightly squashed pack of cigarettes and a lighter, placing them on the table before extracting one for himself and rotating the pack until it faced her. Any pack on the table was free game, he knew that so he offered to share. He placed his own onto his lips and cupped his hand around the small lighter. He missed his zippo but that was still back in his suite. Igniting the end he placed the small disposable lighter on the table next to the pack, blowing out smoke from his mouth as he moved. Pulling his cup closer to him, he held it gingerly between his two hands. “No offense, but that does sound boring” he said, reminding himself suddenly of the fact that his job was the reason here, with a torn shirt in the first place. Nothing so boring about that, but no security either. “Is this the life you would have chosen for yourself, career I mean?”[/blockquote][/size][/right]

[Michkayela Drakonas]

[x][x]
Is this what you wanted
Did I make your dreams come true?
You're sitting in a corner
Wondering what you got into

If she was being honest with herself she was enjoying the way his eyes were following her. And seeing that she didn’t make it a point to lie to herself… What was wrong with it anyways? She was attractive, this was a point of fact. It wasn’t vain or frivolous to enjoy someone taking notice of the fact. It wasn’t as if it was something that just happened after all. While she was attractive naturally and it took little work it was possible for her to make herself unattractive were she not to follow the basic hygienics, or to wear abominable clothing. So really, it wasn’t too much different from someone praising her fine wandmanship. Not entirely anyways. It wasn’t as if she was demanding his attention, or going out of her way to seek it. So it was fine. Totally fine. It helped that the alcohol she’d consumed had just started to make it’s way into her brain, fuzzing the edges out, loosening her tongue. She wasn’t drunk, not even tipsy yet. She also wasn’t ruling it out of her plans. She watched his reaction with a bit more confusion than she liked, her eyes following his movements as he nearly choked on his drink. Saying what she had wasn’t particularly amusing, and she hadn’t used any term or expression that was too far out there to initiate a humorous… Her thoughts went to the wayside as she caught how that could have been taken, her own lips curving ever so slightly at the corners. So maybe she wasn’t the only person in the Lounge with a dirty mind. Though really it wasn’t that perverted. She shook her head back and forth slightly in argument, raising one hand from its resting position. “That is not how I meant it. At all.” Her index finger rose to point at him accusingly, amusement still clear on her features. “I meant that I’m good at what I do, it’s not necessarily my first choice of things though.” She was exceptional at what she did truth be told. She would be exceptional at that as well when it came around to it. Lack of experience didn’t count for anything anyways. According to statistics some people preferred that. And she already knew she was fantastic kisser. She felt her cheekbones heat slightly as she caught the direction her thoughts had turned. It wasn’t that sex embarrassed her. She was actually quite frank about it. However she was also fairly certain that maybe she was a bit more tipsy than she had originally estimated… that is tipsier.

She almost sighed, catching it in the back of her throat before it passed her lips. So she was tipsy. Big deal. She’d had at least seven large glasses of whiskey at this point. She’d also smoked at least two cigarettes. That was the problem with drinking. No matter what it was that you had in your glass, or the speed at which you were drinking you always wanted a smoke in your other hand. Maybe there was something in the drinks that caused that, it was certainly something to look into. And she wanted a cigarette. She brought the cup back to her lips in an almost reflexive motion, her eyes running over Ashton once more before glancing past to their surroundings. Not that they had changed much in the time since Ashton had sat down at her table, although there was an interesting addition to the wall to their left. Or rather a kind of fungus. It was one thing to kiss in public, she could even see making out in public. Provided you had your own semi-private table, or were in a secluded enough area. To make your way up to a wall that was right next to other patrons and start grotesquely swapping spit and basically air-humping your counterpart was something else entirely. She’d chosen to sit here in part because of it’s seclusion, obviously they had the same idea but had overlooked or chosen to overlook the fact that there were two people only feet away from them. Her lips pulled into a thoughtful expression, glancing off of the couple as well and going down to the bag at her feet. Without uncurling her legs this time she lent down almost vertically to the floor, stretching her spine to it’s max to be able to flip her fingers inside of the lip of the purse, searching around for a few moments before coming back up with two or three, semi-flat, square objects. Just because she was the way she was didn’t mean that she wasn’t prepared for the inevitable. Well, had been, she corrected herself as she straightened back up. Or rather, soon would not be. It was much harder to think of the correct phrase when you were drinking. She was sure that the way she’d retrieved the condoms in her hand had been somewhat of an awkward movement but she was beyond caring, which is probably a reason in part of why she was overhanding the three packets in the couples directions, feeling a vague smugness as they connected with the male’s head.

She continued watching as he turned his head and connected with her gaze, her cool smile plastered in place. She really wouldn’t have minded had they done it anywhere else. Anywhere. Right up on her table was just not in her list of places acceptable. She just hoped he’d get the hint. And it was with a grim satisfaction that she watched him pick the offering up and pull the female from the wall. She didn’t bother watching to see where they’d gone but rather turned her face back in the direction of her own table, bringing herself back to the conversation at hand. He had said something about guessing. His job? That might require more of her attention. She picked her glass up again, another swallow, though she left it just under her chin as her finger idly tapped her lips. He was in good shape, that much was obvious. And evasive. He’d hailed from the same house as her, and had a reputation as a partier. He was more than fairly attractive and had enough intelligence to keep her interested in their conversation. But somehow she just wasn’t placing him. She didn’t think he worked for the ministry, she’d heard nothing like that. And she was almost certain that he wasn’t a sympathizer with the Morgan uprising. So he would probably be working a neutral job right? Her eyebrows knitted together in thought, her head titling further to the side to contemplate him. “You, Mr. Wentworth, are a puzzle.” The words left her lips with just the smallest tinge of frustration. Probably because she was usually so good at figuring people out, probably because she didn’t like failing at anything as well. “What, are you some secret assassin for another country? It’s the only thing I haven’t considered.” Also something she didn’t think necessarily fit, but it was out there enough to be a joke. Emphasized by her amused grin. “Or maybe you’re in the business of entertainment. Being paid for your uh.. company.” She slid her glass onto the table with some amount of finesse before raising her hands in defeat. “As I said, a puzzle. And one I’m afraid I’m not sober enough to put together at this time, especially without more context clues..”

It was hard to miss someone’s movements when you were in a conversation with them, even harder when you were maintaining eye contact. Which meant she saw his hand moving and watched it go down his face. Which also meant that she was distracted by it and staring at it for a second longer than she normally would have. Because he had quite pretty lips. And she had been enjoying looking at them. And now that they were covered she found that she wanted to look at them again. Which was just... unnecessary. Which was why she was dragging her eyes back up to his and watching him work out the words she had given him. It was a drag, honestly, not being able to tell any but the few in the pureblood circle that knew of her grandmother’s businesses what it was that she was really doing. Because whatever anecdotes she might be able to use proved useless otherwise. And without anecdotes when one was drinking their minds went to all kinds of other places. Although if she was being honest that happened regardless of her alcohol consumption. It only happened to heighten it. Some. She could see the questions in his eyes though, and the slight air of … was it disbelief, or mistrust? It didn’t really matter because he didn’t seem to be asking any more questions on it. And he was refilling her glass, so who was she to complain? And wiggling, which was amusing in and of itself. Writhing, she liked that word better, for probably all the wrong reasons. “Gracias.” Again her glass was in her hand, and again she was sipping off of it, her mouthfuls somewhat smaller now that she was on her way. It wasn’t boring. At least not all the time. There were plenty of times that it was exciting, and with her own extra curricular activities thrown into the mix she could at least say that she was never still for long. Was it the life she would have chosen though? She leant forward again, thankfully this time not at a completely vertical angle and pried a cigarette lose from the pack between her index and thumb, ignoring the lighter. She didn’t have enough hands in the first place, and she would be damned if her drink was going to be touching the table until it was at least half gone. Which she was planning on taking a while, she was fairly sure she didn’t feel like getting overly drunk.

The rolled paper was placed between her lips carelessly as she arranged her fingers more suitably around it before moving her lips imperceptively, the cherry sparking instantaneously. She took a slow drag before looking his way again, exhaling just as slowly as she thought over his question. “It’s not entirely boring. As for if I would have chosen it myself?” Her shoulders rolled easily. “I don’t know, I’ve never really known anything else. My grandmother raised me. It’s something I always just knew I would do. What about you, does your mysterious employment fit your dreams?”

[Ashton Wentworth]

In his younger years, this had all been far easier for him. He had been able to select a female, and take her home to his bed within a matter of minutes rather than hours. He hadn't needed excessive amounts of conversation or had to spend very much money on drinks. He had been able to do so without ever letting her see any hint of the other woman, or women that had been there the night before...then Georgie happened. What a tar stain that woman had been. Stolen all of his best years, and somehow strong armed him into monogamy among other things. He couldn't even begin to sort out his true feelings on the subject, and closure was even further off. He had spent so much time over the past few years by himself, that this sort of mostly innocent conversation had been lost on him. It was nice, to have his advances noticed. No agenda other than the obvious of course. It was not lost on him, the way that she subtly shifted whenever she caught his eyes wandering down her frame. He couldn't help himself whenever she looked the way that she did. He couldn't stand the sort of woman who pretended to insult themselves just to gain the complements of others, mainly men. Or the way that they would throw themselves at him in attempts to feel better about themselves. He very much preferred going after those confidant enough to know that they wanted and enjoyed it properly whenever they got it. Once, he had actually had a woman shove her bottom in his direction, asking if 'she still had a butt in this dress' when of course she did, her anatomy couldn't just fall off by changing her attire. If it could...that would be a totally separate issue.

“That is not how I meant it. At all.” Smiling into his glass once more he shrugged “Maybe not, but that's how I took it” he laughed and sent a wink in her direction. Her admonishing him wasn't helping matters in the slightest. “I meant that I’m good at what I do, it’s not necessarily my first choice of things though.” He felt another hearty laugh erupt out of his throat and shook his head, waiting for it to set in how her words would sound to him, it had already been established that he was taking things in a less than respectable manor. There was a different tone to her voice now, and he found his eye drawn to her glass which was draining just as quickly as his had. How much of a head start had she gotten? He made the mistake of judging a person's drinking ability based on their size before, and gotten slapped. So he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. With a suggestive cough, he topped off the glass in her hand before she ever had a chance to put it on the table. Even if nothing were to happen tonight, Whiskey made for a good time regardless. He found that out of all of the possible ways that tonight might have gone, this would have been the one that he would have picked. She was far better company that he remembered, or maybe he had just been an ass to her all those years ago. Who really could remember, certainly not him with the amount of liquor that he was pumping into his system. Downing his glass quickly, and pouring himself another he followed her gaze to the handsy couple standing so near to them. “Not jealous are you?” He teased “Because ah-” he shifted in his seat so that he was leaning back “We can outdo them, easy” He winked again, his expression made it very clear that he was joking.

He had been expecting her to laugh it off, or throw something at him, he hadn't been expecting her to reach into her bag. Confused, he watched her carefully. Whenever she came back up with those tiny packages in her hands, his eyes widened. He hadn't been serious, but if she was willing, he certainly was able. She had already demonstrated that she was fairly flexible. With all of the spells and potions available today, he hadn't seen or used one of those objects in such a very long time. He had mastered that little protection spell shortly after he had lost his own v-card in his teenaged years. He had practiced and practiced it many times over the years until it had become almost a life line for him. He couldn't stop staring at her face, waiting to see what she was going to do next. Whenever she threw them at the couple and they hit the man in the head he lost control, causing smoke to come out of his lungs in a most painful manor. “Bravo” he sputtered, wondering why she carried them at all and if she felt the need to carry them, why would she waste them so easily? Confusing little woman. Leaning his torso forward he extended his arm to the small circular ash tray in the middle of the table and put out the cherry of his cigarette, placing the butt into the bowl whenever he was done. Bringing his right leg up and under his body, he leaned back and allowed his arms to stretch out over the top of the booth for comfort. “You, Mr. Wentworth, are a puzzle.” His brow furrowed “How do you figure?”

He enjoyed watching her squirm, even if it was over something so small. “What, are you some secret assassin for another country? It’s the only thing I haven’t considered.” Well, that was a little far fetched, and yet not wholly off base “If I were, I couldn't tell you now could I?” Silly thing to assume, but out of all of the things that most normal people would have guessed, that was going to be the most fitting. “Or maybe you’re in the business of entertainment. Being paid for your uh.. company.” If he had had anything in his mouth, he would have spat it out at her comment. He hadn't smiled that wide in a very long time. “Uh-No” he shifted, running a hand down his face to cover his smile “Not that I wouldn't make a killing at it, naturally” he paused to consider, he would have been very good at that job, had he chosen to pursue it. “But it's flattering anyway” Which was the truth since it only furthered the assumption that she was considering it herself right about now. It was nearly impossible for two attractive humans to not while they were in each others company at least once. “As I said, a puzzle. And one I’m afraid I’m not sober enough to put together at this time, especially without more context clues..” Merlin, he needed to get his head out of the gutter. Pushing the decanter closer to her with his own glass he protested “Or, you need to drink until you come up with more ideas in that pretty little head of yours. Don't be a quitter” She wasn't looking at him anymore, rather it almost seemed like she was looking through him, at something behind his head. Turning to see what might have caught her attention, his brow scrunched up in wonder before turning back to look at her.

“It’s not entirely boring. As for if I would have chosen it myself?” Although they hadn't been horribly close during their years at school together, he hadn't ever pictured her as the sort of woman that would settle for doing anything less than what she was passionate about. “I don’t know, I’ve never really known anything else. My grandmother raised me. It’s something I always just knew I would do. What about you, does your mysterious employment fit your dreams?” He nodded, he knew very well that it was like to have been raised by a grandmother. Not one biologically of course but the woman that he called 'Mom' was a great deal older than a woman of that title should have been. Her age had never been a factor in her judgment or ability, in fact he felt that she was more than qualified to handle even more children than she already had. Taking a small sip from his glass, guilt washed over him for the fact that he hadn't been home to see the woman in question in such a very long time. Tuning back into her words just in time to catch her question he nodded “Exceeds them actually” which was the truth, his job had always been able to be a distraction or to fill the holes in his life. It had kept him very busy at all times and now that he was back in Austria he was more occupied than ever. He was tempted to tell her that he had only come in here to get away from certain aspects of his job but held his tongue. “Given the choice would you do something different?” It wasn't often that he was able to speak so freely with another person. In fact, he hadn't taken a personal interest in any of his friends since Lavinia...and well, that hadn't ended very well at all. Depending on who you asked. He wasn't certain if it was the whiskey or he was actually interested in what she had to say. “What happened to your parents?”

[Michkayela Drakonas]

[x][x]
And you ache for things you don't understand
That your tears don't mean a thing
I only come when you scream, and I told you

So maybe this wasn’t how she had seen her evening playing out, the more time she spent in his company the more she decided she liked it though. He was easy to talk to and even with the superfluous bullshit thrown in she found that she was enjoying the conversation they were having. It was easy, no strings attached, no worrying about what might or might not be offensive, no having to over analyze every action and wonder if it would fall back on her head later with her grandmother. Because he wasn’t a client. And Micha found that that was something she hadn’t realized lately, her propensity for ignoring people for the sake of furthering the agenda at hand. She couldn’t remember the last time she had had a conversation with someone purely for the sake of entertainment, without the added worry of business buzzing in the back of her mind. Tonight wasn’t about business though, there was no hidden agenda lurking behind his words, nothing that she had to think overly much on concerning his credentials. Lets face it, he could have lied about every single thing up to this point- despite the fact that she knew him in school, well kind of- and it wouldn’t matter because it wasn’t something she would have to clean up four or five months from now. It wasn’t something she would have to double and triple check before he had even left her company. Ashton Wentworth was… refreshing. And she refused to feel bad for thinking so. Because there was nothing wrong with her ‘letting her hair down’ and getting rid of the pesky reminders of her everyday life every now and then.

She almost nodded in his direction again in acknowledgement of his statement; she couldn’t blame him after all. She was perverted as all hell when it came down to it but her lack of social interaction this past year coupled with the drinks she’d been consuming all evening seemed to have put a delay in her reaction time, something that made her feel somewhat blonde. A feeling she wasn’t sure if she was completely okay with, but each sip seemed to take away any negative feeling that might arise. And there it went again, she didn’t even pause to consider this time why he was laughing, confusion not even coming into play. Obviously she was only digging herself deeper here, it took only a moment to process what it was she had said this time. Which of course was not helping her case here. She wasn’t the kind of person to miss things, no matter how small, in a conversation. Especially when they were obvious. She also wasn’t one to give up, but essentially it was what she was doing. Throwing in the towel knowing full well whatever she said from that point would only further to drag her down. It was possible that she could think of some way to pull herself out with little to no sexual content to be deciphered or found, but it was highly improbable. “I give, I give. Obviously I have no way of getting myself out of this one.” And she wasn’t sure she minded that either. Her eyes followed him as he added more whiskey to her glass, lips tilting up at the corners slightly in response but otherwise making no comment. What was she supposed to say? She wasn’t going to complain about someone adding more to her glass, even if it was a clear contradiction of what she had planned herself on the slowing down. Just because he was adding more to her glass didn’t mean that she had to finish it off that much faster. He was just… helping to keep her from having to refill it. And anyways she had more pressing business at hand, although his commentary almost distracted her from her goal for a minute. Jealous? No, she would never be so sloppy, it wasn’t even a factor. Although the offer to outdo them sounded better and better the longer she thought about it. She settled with an amused chuckle though on her way down to her bag.

She smiled slightly at the praise, dipping her head in an overly exaggerated form of acceptance. “You seem fairly confident in yourself,” her lips were pulled in some semblance of a smile the ‘for someone who hasn’t done anything yet’ hanging silently on the edge of her sentence. Not that she was necessarily challenging him… necessarily. But she found that his confidence inspired the need for her to bring him down a peg or two, or at least attempt to do so. Even if in doing so she reached an all together different goal- it would after all, be winning either way. Her gaze strayed back to the lips he’d hidden so successfully from her view before, running over the shape of them shamelessly. She found, oddly enough, that she was fixated with the desire to bite them. She wasn’t even sure if that was structured around kissing him at the moment, just biting them. His bottom lip was rounded and plush, especially for the male gender, and it looked soft. Logically speaking she didn’t need any other reason. Although if she were thinking as logically as she should, she would have to admit that she wouldn’t be so focused on such a thing. Her gaze was once more caught by his movements, eyes dragging away from their current query with more than their fair share of hesitation. “I’m normally extremely talented at figuring people out,” it wasn’t a boast, that wasn’t much in her nature, although there was a fair amount of pride behind it- and rightfully owned. Were she not such a good judge of character and people she would never have advanced as far as she had in her Grandmother’s business. Certainly never accomplished what she had managed at such a young age. “You though…” She trailed off her gaze quizzical as she looked him over once more, as if trying to piece him together with mere will. “You don’t fit in the normal scheme of things.” And maybe that was why he was so easy for her, someone who didn’t much care for normal company, to get along with. And maybe it even explained some of the attraction she felt towards him. True, a fair bit came from the fact that he was just attractive, but he had a sense of … barely restrained animal magnetism that seemed to lurk behind his every word and movement, barely repressed. And she found herself wanting to him not to be.

Well, that was true, though she would guess that had he been he would have showed more of a reaction to her far off guess. Although had he shown a reaction she would have been much more skeptical. It was far-fetched to assume that someone you went to school with turned into that, not that she thought him incapable… it was more the feeling that had he been there might have been some clear indication, or at least some sign that she was sitting across from someone who killed for money. She’d been in the presence of a few and while not wholly unordinary, their dangerous felt far different from his, more cold, calculating. He had an attractive smile, all the more confusing as to why he was passing his hand over it again, as if it were something to hide. She felt her features amass into a puzzled sort of expression, doing nothing to school her expression. “No doubt,” her voice was tampered with amusement as she acknowledged his claim. There were plenty of lonely, desperate women out there who would be more than willing to pay him for such services, and she would be willing to bet all the clothes on her that there were a few who weren’t so desperate that would too. She couldn’t help it, her head was thrown back in possibly the most genuine laugh she’d had since they started talking- hell since a long time before then too, her mirth evident as she lent forward a bit to add some more alcohol to her glass. “Mr. Wentworth if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to get me drunk.” If she didn’t know any better, she wasn’t objecting to the idea either. Silly boy, did he not see that regardless of the little she’d consumed the past few minutes were taking more of an effect on her than she’d like to admit. She wasn’t a sloppy drunk, or an evident one at that either. But she found in certain company she was quite friendlier than in normal situations. She also doubted that she’d need to actually be drunk to succumb to him; although that wasn’t something she was likely to admit out loud. She pushed the decanter back towards him with somewhat of a challenging air. “If I’m joining in on the endeavor though sir I do believe you have quite a bit of catching up to do. It’s not a journey one undertakes alone after all.”

She wasn’t quite sure how to take his response, it exceeded his expectations? They’d already ruled out assassin and gigolo... not that he wasn’t qualified for anything else and not that it really mattered in the grand scheme of things... but her curiosity was bated and she found herself wanting to dissect him… and in many ways that had nothing to do with clinical research methods. Which sounded terrible when put into that kind of wording but she found her brain unable to describe the original meaning behind them. “Exceeds in a good way or a bad way?” So she was fishing. Sue her. It wasn’t like it wasn’t normal to be curious about someone you were drinking with. And even in their inebriated states, albeit hers slightly more so, they were still managing to carry on intelligent, stimulating conversation. Not the kind you would expect to find in academia, but interesting and thought provoking enough to catch her interest. How often did someone at the other end of such questions actually care after all? Not that she had any evidence he did, but she knew she did on her end. Because he was interesting and she found herself wanting to know more. His next question was somewhat of a surprise, taking her a moment to think over it. What would she do different? Anything? The journalistic career she’d passed up right out of school went through her mind and she found herself somewhat stricken by the thought. “I’d write.” She said it frankly, even with her surprise at finding it in her own head, her gaze going to meet his directly as she said so. “Same question… but also tack a why onto the end of it, that’s the important bit.” Her smile was fleeting, disappearing as quickly as it passed as he asked about her parents. It wasn’t that it was all that emotional anymore, if it ever had been. Her parents were only that in the most biological of sense, but the imagery was hard to repress. And her feelings on seeing it even more so. “Double homicide.” Her words were clean, no emotional ties or baggage behind them as she shrugged her shoulders carefully, taking a long drag off of the cigarette between her fingers.

[Ashton Wentworth]

It was no secret that Ashton liked to drink, anybody that had been in his presence for more than a couple hours knew that if he didn’t have a drink in his hand or on his person then he wasn’t nearly as interesting to be around. It wasn’t that he was surly, it was just that his tolerance for human kind drastically lowered whenever he was without alcohol. With it, he was much more himself, and a little more violent but that was only if provoked. ”I give, I give. Obviously I have no way of getting myself out of this one.” Smirking he shrugged and polished off the very last of what had to be his sixth or seventh glass of the firewhiskey that they were sharing. “I’m sure that I can think of a few ways to redeem yourself, if you’re interested” During the last couple of words he winked at her over the rim of the glass. Rotating his shoulders he lifted a hand into the air to signal to the girl at the bar that they were going to need a refill. For a girl her size he was fairly impressed that she had been matching his pace. The fact that he had been running right before here and he couldn’t remember the last time that he had eaten anything was really starting to take it’s toll as the whiskey was doing it’s very best to tear away at the lining of his stomach. A fact that might have bothered him if he wasn’t starting to feel like he was swimming in his own blood. Finishing off the last of their second decanter he pulled coins out of his pocket in anticipation and placed them on the table, chances were by the time that the girl brought a replacement alcohol source he was going to forget that he had even summoned her in the first place, much less that he actually needed to pay her for her services. “You seem fairly confident in yourself,” Extending his arms out to either side of his body he grinned from ear to ear. It was just a consequence of his drinking, the carefree attitude that he adopted would be present until the alcohol was slept off. Or worked off, if that happened first. Of course it hadn’t been his original intention, but the more that he sat with her, the more that the thought just kept crossing his mind. “It’s not without warrant pet, I can guarantee you that” lowering his arms he turned his attention to his empty glass on the table, reaching for another cigarette in the process. Putting the filter to his lips he clasped the lighter in his free hand and ignited the tip until a stream of smoke billowed from both of his nostrils. Lifting the glass closer to his face he peered at the clear bottom with a saddened heart, mentally willing it to refill itself on its own.

Luckily his wish was granted by another form whenever the lady from the bar came over and swapped out the decanter again, helping herself to all of the coins on the table and not even bothering to ask if he needed any change, perhaps she just assumed that he was too drunk to notice. What he did notice was that despite her rather form enhancing attire, he was still watching Micha through the cloud of smoke he was exhaling, perhaps he was growing up after all. “I’m normally extremely talented at figuring people out,” He heard her, but didn’t look at her while she spoke, he was far too busy holding onto the neck of the decanter and exuding the effort not to spill it all over the table while he topped off his own glass and he reached forward to replace the drink or two that she had taken from her own. Not to get her drunk, but he couldn’t guarantee that he would have the hand eye coordination to do so again. “You though…You don’t fit in the normal scheme of things.” Setting the glass onto the table as carefully as he could he lowered his head to the table to take his next sip rather than try to pick up the far too full glass. Swallowing and taking another drag he remained silent, not sure if what was a complement or not. Whenever he righted himself, he shrugged in response to her earlier words “I’m choosing to take that as a good thing” If only she knew that he might as well kill for money. The line of work that he was in wasn’t too far off from a hired hit man, he did search for people and some cases he might as well have ended their lives with the changes that he forced them to make. Yet, this was just the laws that were in place and he was the hand that enforced them. Even if he had to keep it a secret, he should feel more guilty than he did.

He was still waiting for the signal, something in her body language that would tell him that it was alright to move forward, to make his move and go for what it was that he was finding out that he wanted with every word that she spoke. He could feel himself gravitating toward her, it might have just been his body reacting to the liquor induced heat that was burning inside of him but he found himself wanting her. Which was minorly unexpected considering how his day had been going, and that he wouldn’t have even been here on any other day, this place wasn’t really his scene. “Mr. Wentworth if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to get me drunk.” he considered her words, knocking the ashes off the end of his cigarette into the glass ash tray “I don’t see you stopping me either” At least there was his signal if nothing else. “If I’m joining in on the endeavor though sir I do believe you have quite a bit of catching up to do. It’s not a journey one undertakes alone after all.” Lifting his drink slowly he accepted her challenge; at least he was choosing to take it as a challenge. Ashton was fairly confident he was going to surpass her level of buzz any moment now. It was a bad habit of his, tossing back alcohol without letting it sink in before he knew just how much he had really consumed, and then whenever it did finally hit him, it was like a wall of drunkenness. “Exceeds in a good way or a bad way?” He considered, finishing off the last of his cigarette, extinguishing the butt in the little tray on the table. “Good way I think, It keeps me on my toes. But that’s really all I can say on the matter” It was creeping up on him now, going to hit him soon. He should have braced himself, instead, he drank more.

“I’d write.” That was unexpected to say the very least. He could see her out doing something else, maybe some sort of lawyer. She had the intimidating looks for it at least. He couldn’t seem to picture her hunched over a desk with a pen in her hand and surrounded by sheets of paper. “Same question… but also tack a why onto the end of it, that’s the important bit.” Polishing off his ninth glass of whiskey he hiccupped Placing his glass on the table empty for the first time all night. Pacing himself was probably a good idea and he was more than hydrated now and since he wasn’t in a position where he could take off his jacket he was getting a little bit too warm. Pushing the sleeves up to his elbows he unzipped his hoodie as low as he could without exposing the torn and frayed bottom of his shirt. It was an improvement, but not much of one. “I don’t know…I really love my job. They pay’s good, the hours are decent lots of travel options” He caught himself before he said anything that he shouldn’t have “But If I had to choose…jiggalo” He smiled “Then at least I could make a living doing something I’m good at and love to do” he laughed from deep within his chest, until he answered his next question. There was no humor in that. “Double homicide.” He scooted around the rounded edge of the booth, taking care to bring his still empty glass with him. He was now still a good foot away from her, but close enough to touch her if he really wanted to. It was darker here, he didn’t have the glow from the bar lights shining in from the edge of the booth any more, it made him feel mysterious. Something he blamed on the alcohol, while he was thinking about it, he poured himself another drink even though he was swimming already.

Without dwelling on the possible consequences any longer he reached out and grabbed ahold of her waist in his hands, pulling her body closer to his until she was forced to be sitting right next to him. He could smell her shampoo, the sweet hint of perfume on her soft skin. His hand was left on her hip, but he could still remember the feel of his hands around her slender waist, her body heat on the tips of his fingers. He left his hand on her body to ask permission in a way that his words would not. He wanted her, and he was fairly certain that it was more the fact that she was mentally stimulating without being overbearing, but the slope of her hips down to her thighs didn’t hurt matters at all. Massaging softly by rolling his fingers against the hem of her pants, slowly working the excess fabric of her shirt up so he could feel the warmth of her skin. He paused, waiting to see if she was going to slap his hand away, or to protest of any kind. He didn’t know her reputation, and right now it wouldn’t have mattered to him even if he had heard anything about her. She would have been perfect, in his youth at least she would have been exactly the type of woman that he would have gone out looking for. It could have been the exact same situation, the two of them drinking in a bar just like this. Of course the whiskey wouldn’t have been able to be this expensive and he might have been pushing more shots on her. He could only get so far with his limited income back then but he certainly would have tried a little bit harder, talked a little bit less, touched a little more. Not that he wasn’t considering it, but that was the beauty of places like this. Nobody in their right mind left this place looking for any form of lasting love. Yes, in his younger years he would have wanted her to be leaving his apartment in the middle of the night with her hair a mess and a fine sheen of sweat covering her body. Hell, he still could see that…but at least instead of taking her back to some hole in the wall apartment he could take her back to his suite at Ilfacrombe.

He might not have been looking for her, but he wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity whenever it was presented. Finishing off his tenth, or was it eleventh glass of the whiskey he make a sound as the burning took hold in the back of his throat. Since she hadn’t pushed him away, he figured that there wouldn’t be any harm in pressing on just a little further. Placing a hand on either side of her hips he lifted, delighted whenever she moved with his advances until she had a knee on either side of his own thighs. Moving his hands from her hips up toward her ribs slowly, he finally made eye contact with her. His blue eyes peering into her own, almost pleading with her but not asking permission anymore, his hands were hidden under the shelter of her cropped jacket. She had her chance to turn him away, he hoped she wasn’t going to protest now. His hands balled up the fabric of her loose shirt, he longed to feel her skin against his hands. Slowly, a smile spread across his lips, and he inclined his face toward hers, waiting for her to meet him half way.

[Michkayela Drakonas]

[x][x]
And you ache for things you don't understand
That your tears don't mean a thing
I only come when you scream, and I told you

Well if she was going to give in, an offer like the one he was making made it a good deal easier. She didn’t mind redeeming herself one bit if his mind was in the same place hers was. Although as she swirled the amber liquid in her glass around, her eyes shifting down as the ripples caught her attention, he probably had a few more glasses to go for his mind to catch up to just exactly where she was at. Unless he was just naturally dirty minded, and that would be just lovely. A lovely train of thought all together. Her lips curling in a devilish smile, eyes going back up to meet his with a stormy kind of glint lingering beyond the blue-green orbs. Yes, she could deal with Ashton being dirty. She found she could more than deal with it, it was something she was steadily wanting to handle. And handling was always all kinds of fun. Instead of voicing her thoughts though she just settled with another tilt of her head, her eyebrows raising ever so slightly as she did so. “Oh, that sounds… like an interesting proposition Mr. Wentworth.” And one she would be more than glad to fulfill. She brought the glass up to her lips, taking one sip and then another when she found the burning she craved unsatisfied. She was tempted to knock it back once more, but she was attempting to give him a fair chance to catch up with her. Something he seemed just as eager to accomplish as her eyes followed the tilt of his head backwards as he knocked off his glass, her gaze running over the muscles in his throat and along his collar bones. While not terribly visible due to the unfortunate amount of clothing he was wearing the tips were poking out enough to capture her vision, prominent, jutting. The kind of collar bones that you could bite. Unconsciously her tongue left the confines of her mouth to run along her bottom lip, pressing in ever so slightly upon the flesh beneath it, triggering her olfactory sense instantaneously. What had been just slightly sexual was quickly escalating into something much more visceral. Not that she was complaining. Controlled, tame situations weren’t nearly as fun as what this was turning into. She vaguely noted that he had set more money on the table and somewhere in the back of her mind it rang as wrong, a small voice barely heard whispering something about the last round that she couldn’t quite make out. There was no getting it back after the whisper had ceased either and she didn’t care to try too hard leaving her to glance somewhat wonderingly at it before banishing the thought process entirely. She did throw her head back completely when he answered her via his movements, his arms stretching out and showcasing his form. Well, maybe it was something that shouldn’t have been called into question, but she wasn’t one not to question. The laughter that fell from her lips was genuine, carefree, and greatly amused- burbling from up out of her without restraint. Without warrant? Hardly. She was slowly starting to realize that the man before her was sin walking, a temptation she didn’t care to pass up. Like an over indulgent fantasy you know will fade with time if you gave it the chance he was eating at her brain, his movements encouraging the hormones running rampantly alongside the alcohol in her bloodstream. She watched from under partly hooded eyes, her irises burning. “No, I wouldn’t say that.” Her tone was slow and thoughtful again, her lips still quirked but her eyes searching over him in a way that wasn’t completely physical. Puzzles had always been her thing. “I would say that you had… some claim to be. I wouldn’t know exactly how much though…” Again her lips tilted up more, her words holding more meaning then she had meant to let slip into her tone.

The puppy dog eyes he was giving his glass didn’t seem to be working and while she found that it was more than slightly amusing to see him try. She didn’t acknowledge the waitress as she made her way over, her mind only noting her in her peripheral with a slight annoyance. She was providing a needed service though so she found that she could endure her presence with a snarky sort of oblivion. Although the way she was leaning over the table to collect the money was slightly amusing, if Micha were to hazard a guess she would say she was angling for a tip in the form she was getting now… or more. She was highly impressed with the fact that Ashton kept his gaze locked with hers, only furthering the esteem she was getting for him. The smile slid slowly from her lips as she noticed the woman scooping the money off of the table, her gaze growing serious as she contemplated the man before her. The alcohol in her system wasn’t helping her libido any and she was starting to wonder if it was more the alcohol or the fact that she wanted him- not that it was changing matters any but whiskey made her both more carefree and contemplative, interchangeable at best. She didn’t put a lot of emphasis on sex but it was blatantly obvious that that’s where she was wanting this to head. It was also well known to her the status of her own past sexual encounters- null and void. Which meant that this would be a door she hadn’t opened before or expected to be opening now. Expected or not though, she wanted the man sitting before her and the more she thought about it the more she accepted that she was going to get him. Period. With her thoughts drawing to a conclusion her lips tilted up once more, this time in a victorious slant. The woman was already gone and Ashton was busy filling his glass. She saw his intent even as he leant forward and, despite the voice in the back of her head that was telling her she had meant to slow down she pushed her arm forward, holding her glass out as he filled what little she had taken up as well. Choice didn’t have much to do with it though, she felt the thought spring unwarranted into her mind, acknowledging his voice slowly. She thought it was a good thing right now, if she was reflecting on the average set of people. It wasn’t exactly disdain that she held for others of her species but it ran pretty damn close. Especially with the contacts she had to keep for her family. Those sort of people were certainly a few steps down from the company she was keeping on this night. She brought her glass closer to her, running her index finger along the rim slowly as she looked back to him. “That would be a fair guess.” She was still sitting here after all.

A smirk broke over her lips as she nodded her head in acquiescence. “Oh no, not at all… what would be the fun in that?” She would need that liquor later anyways. Not that she needed liquid courage exactly, she was fairly confident that this night could have gone much the same way without any of the alcohol actually- there was a natural attraction between the two of them, like one of those instantaneous, easily recognizable things. Like a fire that started unexpectedly and grew rapidly to encompass the whole area, her body was burning. That was the best way for her to phrase it. Her body was burning and if something wasn’t done about it soon then she was going to burn until she was completely obliterated. She didn’t want to think of herself as lustful, the thought was surprising. She wanted. Lusted, but it wasn’t a word she felt like she could use correctly yet. It didn’t even make sense in her mind, it could very well have been the alcohol talking through her. She was willing to bet she was already well on the way to being drunk, if not there already- it was so much harder to tell the difference after you’d already started buzzing. She grinned and raised her glass in response to his raised one, bringing the glass to her lips in a salutary manner, downing half of it in a gulp, ignoring the mandate in the back of her head that demanded she slow down. It seemed like they had been going at this long enough for slowing down to seem like a waste. Maybe each drink got her closer to the final destination. Her grin passed over her lips quickly, disappearing just as soon as it had come. It kept him on his toes? Once more her curiosity grew at his words, her lips drawing in a confused line as she looked into his face. What was it that this man did? He seemed to find her curiosity natural, but managed to repel every attempt to dig deeper. He liked what he did, which might or might not narrow down the field. Her eyebrows drew together slowly as she looked back at him again, trying to fit him into some category, but he was defying expectations and she wasn’t sure whether she was impressed or annoyed with that turn of events. “Must be nice. So you’re never lacking…adventure at least.” Which she supposed she wasn’t either, but there was a fine line between worrying about one of the clients getting pissed off enough to throw a curse and adventure. In a way she could use the same line, keeping her on her toes, always wondering, calculating, planning. It was an important lesson to learn. What was it that he would consider on his toes though? Somehow she doubted that it would be anything less than exciting or worrying that would hold his attention. And she wanted to know which one it was that was going to keep him on his toes with his job because that would be yet another clue as to what his mysterious employment might be. Her eyes wandered his body once more, thought process fading slowly into the background as she raked her eyes over the planes of his skin.

She was half tempted to say something about the hiccup, but feeling that he was finally catching up to her level of intoxication she decided to let it go, looking down to her glass and quickly bringing it to her lips to drain the last half. Yes, it was a good filler for the between. She leant over once more to pull the decanter to her, placing her glass carefully on the table in front of her and holding it down with her free hand to keep it steady. She lifted the decanter carefully, pouring slowly as to avoid a party foul. She waited a little too pull the neck up, the liquid sloshing out barely a little upon the side of her hand holding her cup. Her eyebrows scrunched together as she observed it, pulling her cup up to her mouth and suctioning the alcohol off of her hand quickly, her eyes coming up as she transferred her cup to her lips, sipping as she looked up in time to see him place his glass emptily upon the table. Empty? Was he giving up? Her confusion was dismissed as she pulled the glass reluctantly away from her lips, savoring the remaining burn in her throat before returning to her observations. Somewhere between her mind wandering though it seemed he hand rolled his jacket sleeves up exposing… fuckkkk. The thought was instant and silent and nearly painful as her eyes ran over his forearm, the ink glancing out against his skin sending her stomach into tight knots that seemed impossible to detangle. The colored hues were… enticing her eyes to roam his forearm. He had a tattoo. Maybe more than one. If the situation hadn’t already been set that would have clenched it. Her tongue wet her lips slowly, eyes roaming over his forearm once more before she looked up to him again, a slightly distracted smile covering her lips. Funny the thing that she had guessed earlier came back into play here. Her head shook slowly as she caught it, almost completely missing the parts about his job. While part of her brain was filing it away for later it seemed inconsequential compared to the mass of beautiful color painted on his arm. The fact that he was boasting at would having have made a good gigolo did nothing to help the situation either. Because he was good at that? Well obviously someone like him would have a fair deal of experience. Which gave her just a seconds hesitation in her own mind. Because obviously she didn’t have…well any experience. So she had no idea if she would live up to his standards, especially considering the fact that the women he had been with previously were probably much accustomed to …well, that. And probably knew millions of tricks and tidbits that she had yet to even learn. But then…she could always look on it as a learning experience…she had always enjoyed school to a certain extent. The image that popped into her head of Ashton and a desk though had nothing studious about it. Her face betrayed none of the smug satisfaction that she felt as he moved nearer, her body instantly angling itself so that she was facing him- considering how she had already been positioned though it was a much easier lounging position, her back relaxing easily into the fabric behind it. Much more comfortable, though she had a few ideas of how he could better that even further.


And before she could say anything to the affect his hands were on her, pulling her, touching her, caressing her in a way. She didn’t fight it, had no will to do so. His hand was like a searing poker applied to her skin, the instantaneous reaction of her body leaning into him hard to control. She could feel her breath catching in her throat as his thumbs began to rub her shirt into her, the pad of his thumb brushing over the apex under her breasts, unwittingly- or not as the case may have it- pressing into something that she hadn’t been aware of as a hot zone, her body flaming up instantly underneath his touch, her lips almost parting in surprise. She had expected him to move closer, maybe talk a little more, but it seemed that they were beyond that and while a very large part of her was nervous, the majority of her was celebrating. She met his gaze with what she hoped appeared to be confidence, at least in her decision, her eyes intent on the warmth behind his. She finished her drink off easily, discarding the glass behind her on the seat of the booth so as not to break the connection, her free hands somewhat timidly coming to rest on his wrists, fingers closing loosely around them in the semblance of shackles. Oh, if she had shackles… the possibilities were already swimming in her mind, her thumbs going to brush over the skin of his wrists, running along the textures, the veins underneath slowly, savoring the feel of his bare skin underneath the pads of her fingers, making her hunger for more. With an intensity she didn’t know she possessed she brought his eyes back to his her lower lips disappearing within the clutches of her teeth, her breath coming somewhat faster- no where near a pant but a clear sign of her arousal. She let her hands slide up his forearms, her gaze dropping once more as she estimated where the tattoo would be under her fingers, her fingers loosening from that arm to allow her index finger to trail over the lines, her lips playing in a small smile. Tattoos… like motorcycles- wizard or not ( a secret she’d kept for so long it was surprising) they were one of her ultimate downfalls. She let her head dip the small distance left, placing her lips to the center of the jokers face in a slow kiss. Maybe it was a bit odd of her, maybe it was something most females didn’t do- but it was difficult for her not to, and she was done second guessing herself for now. She let her head raise slowly, her fingers running over the tattoo once more, the other hand still viced around his arm squeezing lightly. She didn’t want any doubt in his mind that she wanted this, especially were he to find out later about her state- or if he suddenly decided to grow some super moral highground. No doubt was allowed to play here tonight. She wanted him, he wanted her. It was a simple equation that promised all sorts of wonderful things.

She followed his face as it finished his own glass off, her eyes following his jaw line slowly, her throat tightening as he uttered what she depicted to be pleasure before ridding himself of the glass.

And then he fucked all of her preconceived notions over in a matter of seconds, his hands sliding to her hips and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She Her eyes fled to his lips, her chest moving slowly, steadily with each exhale. She wanted to fuck those lips. To suck those lips- bleed them dry. The staggering force of the attraction was throwing her off, maybe it was partly the alcohol too but it was a bit more than she was sure she could handle coherently. It wasn’t just the alcohol throwing her brain into a tailspin of whatever this was. When he went to lift her she found herself moving willingly, all thoughts of what she had been thinking of the couple earlier fleeing her mind as she pushed her knees on either side of him, flexing her hips down into him experimentally, her hands running up the length of his arms to come to rest on his shoulders, fingers digging slightly into the flesh beneath. And he was retracing the flaming trail that he had left earlier, his eyes coming to meet hers and she found that she had no will left in her in the matter. She wasn’t the most experience but it wasn’t like she’d never made out with a man, sexuality aside, and she found her body was doing most of the work for her, her head dipping down to meet his without a second thought, her lips covering his slowly, tasting him. She pulled back for maybe an instant before bringing her lips back to his, pressing into them and opening her lips, her tongue running along his bottom lip before her teeth went out to capture it, pulling back slightly as she felt the soft flesh roll delicately beneath her grasp.

[Ashton Wentworth]

The amount of ink on Ashton’s body wasn’t minor, he had spent a great deal of money and time over the years adding to his collection of portraits and each and every one had a very special meaning that was close to his heart. Reasons that he hadn’t shared with another single living soul in his entire life, but he was very proud of his tattoos. Of course, even in this day and age more often than not he was looked at in a negative light because of how ‘unprofessional’ they made him look. He hadn’t ever cared, since he wasn’t one to let other people’s opinions of himself influence him one way or another. Even if he should have. So whenever Micha got a good look at his forearm and couldn’t tear her eyes away from it threw him, confused him. His eyebrows pushed together, waiting to see what she was going to do. Tomorrow, whenever he was laying in bed reflecting on today’s events there were going to be so many questions about her actions and how rapidly things had progressed given the fact that before tonight, they hadn’t ever been all that close. Right place right time at the very least. Since she seemed to be distracted, at least for the moment his eyes wandered to the decanter, willing it to uncork and enchant itself to hover above his head, so that an ever present flow of the sweet substance would be pouring down into his mouth at all times. If only such things really existed then he would have been set. He felt her hands on his wrists and made no movement to stop her from whatever she was wanting to do, he liked it whenever a woman knew what she wanted. He was happy to follow commands within reason to make things better for her. He had his generous moments just like everybody else.

He relished the feel of her thumbs brushing over the skin of his now exposed forearms, fascinated by the fact that she was so interested. It was just a tattoo to most people, and he couldn’t help but wonder why she found it so interesting. He had loads of battle wounds and scars on his body as well, each with stories that normally elicited pity reactions from the person that he told the story to. In fact, the shallow claw marks that were hiding just beneath the cover of the sweatshirt that he was wearing would raise more questions than he was going to be able to answer. The shallow gashes were no doubt going to be coagulating into the white interior lining of the shirt, which was going to be annoying whenever he had to pluck the fibers from the healing cuts. He had become so enveloped in his own mind that he didn’t realize what she had been doing until he felt her lips brush against the taut skin of his forearm roughly where the jokers face was. His body let loose a surprised gasp as his head jerked down to look at her, not saying a word. Obviously she was into ink appreciation. He was very curious as to her motivations the fact that her fingernails were cutting into his skin on his other arm didn’t even register. He was in so many fights on such a regular basis that such a light pain in the focused area didn’t even faze him. It was going to take a lot more effort on her part for her actions to register on his pain meter.

Whenever they had been sitting across from one another he hadn’t grasped the magnitude of his attraction. She was just a whole other creature whenever they were this close together. His fingers were moving of their own accord, kneading into the fabric of her shirt, slowly, ever so slowly balling it within his fists. The more that he pulled into his hands, the more skin of her sides was exposed. He wasn’t afraid of her suddenly becoming modest, nobody was looking at them, they were secluded and still had enough liquor in the decanter on the table that the waitress or bar keep, whoever she was wouldn’t need to come mucking about their table. It was just the two of them in this shadow, and as far as he was concerned at this very moment, in the entire establishment. The dull roar of the conversations taking on the tables around them wasn’t any softer than it had been whenever he had walked in here and the sounds of clinking glasses as well the soft music from the speakers in the ceiling and around the room. Yet, louder than all of those sounds was the sound of her breath as it slowly seeped out from between her full lips. There was this look of desire in her eyes he had been blind to before, but he certainly was focused on now. It seemed to take her a moment, but once the surprise at his forward actions wore off and he felt her body weight sinking slowly to rest with a pleasant heft on the tops of his thighs. He felt his body tense as she allowed her hands to move about his arms. It wasn’t a tickling sensation, but it did make his skin tighten and shudder from the softness of her touch. From her confidence, he had been expecting something a little more aggressive, not that he was displeased, it was just unexpected, nice.

Whenever her hands landed on his shoulders, they flexed instinctively, the very corners of his mouth lifting into a smirk. There was no hesitation in the way that her lips came crashing down into his; there was the aggression that he had been expecting. He found himself smiling as the soft pink flesh of his own mouth was flattened against her much darker lips. She pulled away, but he wasn’t done. He hadn’t had nearly enough and had his hands not already been occupied he would have placed one on the back of her neck to keep her exactly where he wanted her. His hands were still working steadily, and his smile widened whenever his left hand completed it’s goal and his thumb brushed against her dewy skin. Jutting his hand down under the flowing fabric it cascaded back down over his forearms hiding them away from view, and only seconds later his right hand finished the same task. He could feel the bottom elastic half of her bra strap irritating the skin of his palms as his thumb experimentally roamed around the soft fabric of the garment. It was innocent enough, but he couldn’t have pulled his hands away from the upper half of her ribs if she had paid him. He held her with his fingertips, keeping her steady, but inching her toward his own chest. He greeted the sensation of her teeth on hi lower lip with an impulsive sound from his throat. It was only meant for her to hear, and she might not have even picked up on the soft sound due to its decibel. With a very small amount of regret, his hands snaked their way backward until they were resting against her shoulder blades, forcing her closer since his arms were locked at a forty five degree angle. His palms encompassed her shoulder blades, just the very pads of his fingertips pressing into her skin, saying what his occupied lips could not.

His mind was running away from him, already wondering how best to get her out of what was no doubt a rather expensive shirt before he tore the fabric from her body. The smells that he had been inhaling earlier were finally registering in his mind, strawberry. That was the sweet smell he recognized on her skin and hair, how he had mistaken it earlier he didn’t understand, no wonder his libido had spiked whenever she had gotten closer to him. The longer he inhaled her, the more ravenous he became. His lips moved against hers, his tongue softly massaging hers. Whenever he forced himself to come up for air his lips fluttered to the corner of her mouth, inhaling the sweet essence of that delightful red fruit as he did. He left a trail of fevered kisses until he reached his destination, his hot breath falling on her ear. He could have easily buried his face in her hair, he could get lost in the soft tresses until his nose became immune to the smell. “You are aware that this makes you a hypocrite, right?” As he smiled his lips brushed against her earlobe, forcing the hoop that ran through her ear to displace itself. “Carrying on like this whenever you were so mean to those doing the same thing” he couldn’t help but tease her, even in the thick of things. Filling his lungs to the point of bursting with the smell of her hair he extracted his face to look back into her eyes, Merlin she felt good in his arms. His hands moved deftly from where they were down to the back of her hips and pulled her hips toward his pelvis. He was more than ready to get out of here as soon as she said the word, if he would even make it that far. He was known to become highly inventive whenever given the proper motivation. Then again, he also had a bad habit of ripping clothing to get to what he wanted.

All thoughts of earlier this night were being forced from his mind faster and faster. His brain was only seemingly able to count the number of layers of fabric he was going to have to work his way through before they were touching. Four, if he was getting ahead of himself, nine, if he was really willing to work for it. There it went again; his imagination was running away from him. Finally, his hands separated, they had been moving in almost unison until now as one went upward to rest between her shoulder blades and the other dipped lower, testing the waistline of her jeans, seeing if his thumb could find enough purchase to dip a little lower. His blood was pumping harder, making his heart excited in his chest, thumping away and making his pulse elevate his body temperature. His eyes opened slowly, as he peered into her eyes, asking her what to do next before he took matters into his own hand and called the shots without her permission.

[Michkayela Drakonas]

[x][x]
Child don't follow me home
You're just too perfect for my hands to hold
If you choose to stay

[/right]

She knew where this was heading, probably before she even admitted it to herself- and maybe later after a few days of reflection she would pause to examine more closely exactly how it had come about or feel some small amount of indictable liability. Maybe later she would stop to feel some amount of guilt over the fact that she was about to not only have sex for the first time, but to have sex with a man she barely knew, who had arrived under questionable circumstances at best. For now though she was content to exist within the moment and attempt some measure of composure, not that it was doing much good. Because she liked the way that he was touching her, and she liked the way he felt under her. So maybe there wouldn’t even be any guilt when the alcohol proceeded to wear off. They were two consenting, single adults who were just going to satisfy a mutual curiosity together. A curiosity that would involve nudity. No big deal. It was a phrase she’d heard her younger cousin utter often enough, something that an hour ago would have made her further question her decision making process up to this point. It wasn’t like she was inebriated enough for it to be blamed on that either, what she was doing here was something that she was completely in control of and it was a heady feeling to have. To know that if she so desired she could get up from her perch atop him right now and walk out of that door, back to her apartment and never have to answer to anyone for it. Except maybe her libido, who was definitely cursing the very idea that had scattered across her already crowded brain. Every touch, lingering glance, every response that she got from her own ministrations- all of it was serving to light her body on fire, the burn that had developed with the whiskey catching and incinerating whatever remnant that there had been behind it. It didn’t hurt that he was a smart ass, and someone that she could later rationalize having known somewhat in her younger years. It also didn’t hurt that his physique was so well kept, or the fact that he had ink on his skin- something that never failed to set her off. Her own tattoos turned her on, those of others were certain to do the same. It wasn’t like she was expecting anything out of this beyond a romp back at her place, maybe followed by a few more- and if he was still single a week or so from now she was sure she wouldn’t turn down a follow up encounter. If he was still single... and if what was to follow was anything like the preview she was getting here and now. Although…

She was pulled out of her own musings as he gasped, her lips curling into a smile over the exposed skin of his forearm as she sat back up slowly, brushing her torso along the length of his with a deliberate, concentrated design, trying to concentrate over the feel of his fingers against the fabric covering her skin. A futile effort it seemed as each new pass brought more of her skin into contact with the air outside of it, her flesh breaking out in light bumps at the sudden rush of air against it. All it would take was for someone to pass too close to the booth they were currently inhabiting and the scene inside would no longer be as private, no longer be hidden from view- a prospect she found surprisingly stimulating. She wasn’t one for blatant public displays, not like the couple had been giving before them moments before. For one it looked sloppy, for another it was done without any tact. But no one could see them here, at least not yet, and she had no intention of staying in this booth more than a few more moments anyways, she was just currently otherwise occupied. She could feel the muscles in his shoulders tightening and releasing beneath her hands, the very action causing her fingers to tighten conclusively around them, trying to push herself closer to him or pull him more firmly into her she didn’t know, her body had ceased making sense of its directions the moment her lips had crashed upon his, a matter of instinct and reaction all that was left for her to muddle through. She could feel the elevation of his lips against hers, almost taste the satisfaction radiating off of him even before her body registered that the searing heat on her ribs had intensified, the low moan leaving through their connecting lips throatier than those before it, almost pleading- for what she wasn’t quite certain of herself. Her body arched into his touch, spine curving delicately in a move that at once placed her closer to him, refusing to fight the steady direction of his hands, aching for something that was just beyond her reach. The further his hand traveled the harder she felt herself biting down upon his lips, her brain warning her to keep it carefully controlled even as her body hastened to ignore it. Her hearing seemed to have become hyper sensitive, every breath he took invading her brain in a perverse fashion, the somewhat muted sounds of the background flying into a crescendo. Something that became damnably captivating when the throaty expression escaped his throat, her ears catching it and focusing on it in a way that was almost selective.


She liked making him moan, she liked the guttural sound to it, the animalistic quality lurking behind it. It was a realization that crashed over her with a sudden intensity, the desire to make him do it again burning through her so hot that she had to pause a moment, her teeth scraping over the padding of his bottom lip once more as she felt his fingers pressing into the flesh at her back, scorching through to the very core of what resided within her. She felt her body move against his, her hips undulating slowly as she pushed herself further up, as close as she could possibly get to the life force before her, shoulders tensing beneath his touch as she ran her hands up the length of his neck, fingers pressing into the skin beneath, tracing the contouring until she felt the soft tickle of hair against her flesh, her fingers going up and tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck, twining around the auburn locks and pulling as she opened her mouth to his tongue, her own meeting his with a renewed vigor. She could feel him pulling away though, feel the retreat of his lips from her own even as the lids covering her irises refused to open, she wasn’t ready for him to be done, even if her breath had accelerated to an almost dangerous rate, even if she knew that she would have needed to break away herself sooner rather than later. She wanted to drown in the flavor of him, fuse her lips back to his and continue the dance that had been discontinued. Before she could even so much as voice her complaint beyond the soft mewling noise that left her lips as they disconnected though she could feel his lips back on her skin, the corner of her mouth, her head lolling back to grant him further access. Until he stopped again, she couldn’t help the protesting sound that left her lips once more as she leant her head forward to rest her forehead lightly on his cheek as he spoke, her mind protesting instantly to his words. She was not a hypocrite, she wasn’t in the middle of the floor, and she wasn’t in good enough lighting for anyone but him to see. Although even to her ears her protests rang weak. Instead her body shuddered against his lips, her fingers tugging on the tendrils of hair within her grasp as she let loose a throaty chuckle, bringing her neck back into its proper position as she felt his chest move against hers in what she assumed was him inhaling. She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, delighting in the way that his palm moved against her skin with the gesture. “Not really,” her lips were pulled in their own half smirk as he brought his eyes back to hers once more. She ran her eyes slowly over the space they were ensconced in, pointedly resting on the shadows surrounding them before moving her gaze back to him, both eyebrows raised in a mock surprised expression. “I wasn’t aware we were in front of a crowd…” She half played with the notion of crawling off of his lap then, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, and was more than glad she hadn’t when she felt his hands travelling down her back, her body unable to stop the reaction she had to it, shivering over each place that he left behind until his hands closed around her hips.

She bit back the surprised gasp as he pulled her forward once more, her hips gyrating in time with his movements as her lids fell to half lid her eyes, lips pulling into a strained smirk. She could feel the raw heat of his hands as they traveled, her body erupting into goosebumps beneath his flesh, her teeth grabbing her bottom lip as she looked down on him, her head tilting to the side as she tried to ignore the way his thumb was moving against her hips. That was all it would take of course for her to find out that he had hit another erogenous zone, her breath catching within her chest as his thumb passed over her hipbone. She could read the question in his eyes clear enough though; taste the actions behind it on the tip of her tongue. She was tempted to dip her face back to his and resume where they had left off, she wasn’t ready to leave the primal heat of him just yet. Even though a part of her knew that if she stayed in this position for much longer she would be completely eclipsing the show that the couple before had put on. The frustration mounted in her chest even further as she realized that they couldn’t just apparate to her flat, she had so many charms and defenses around the place they would burn to a crisp in a very un-metaphorical way before they were even halfway inside. She closed her eyes slowly as she shifted against him one last time, lifting one of her legs to expertly slide off of his lap, her body instantly regretting the decision and aching for the contact. “My flat is only a few blocks from here,” she brought her irises back to his as she said the statement, the surety behind it impossible to miss. She let her gaze roam the table once as she bent down to grab her purse, pulling it up into her possession once more and looking at the decanter upon the table. “There’s a liquor store on the way there too…” She trailed off as she stood, looking behind her to see him already gathering his own possessions from the space they had been vacating, her eyes roaming over the length of his body unashamedly as she dipped her hand into her purse, fingers fumbling until they found their cool purchases. She let the coins fall to the table as he stepped out himself, her fingers trailing down his forearm until they found his hand, closing over it easily even as she moved to walk towards the door.

Somewhere in her head she felt rushed, not as if she were skipping anything, but as if she couldn’t get to her apartment fast enough, and she knew a part of it could be contributed to the head rush she had received upon standing. Her strides were sure though as she wove through the bodies left standing within the establishment, her free hand going to lift in a small salute to the man by the door as they exited into the night air, the rush of it over her skin bringing a slight pinkening to her cheeks. The realization of what she was doing wasn’t frightening her, or even giving her pause, although somewhere in the back of her mind she could feel her thoughts running over it repeatedly trying to rationalize it. She turned her head to look at the man next to her, her lips quirking into a small smile as she ran the length of his face, lingering for a moment upon his lips before tightening her fingers somewhat.