Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Printable Version
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Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Tindome - 05-03-2015
While Jean could keep her pinned there indefinitely, it was becoming somewhat dull for him. His cock's presence inside her was not half so discomfiting for her as would have amused him. Not that it was his usual preference that his cock be discomfiting, but demonic entities tended to be exceptions to most rules. He would not go so far as to torture the flesh to drive out the spirit, but irritation was another thing entirely. The sort of fleeting thing that would not bother Rylan once she was herself again.
Or, hell. If he couldn't annoy her, he might have settled for making her climax again. Same body and different minds; that could be fun.
But with Belial giving him nothing of interest on which to feast in either direction, Jean opted to withdraw from her. No longer pinned to the tree, she was free to fall or to stand as she saw fit, Jean making no move to catch her as he fastened his trousers and brushed them straight on his legs. If she attempted to flee, he assumed he could catch her, and so it did not concern him unduly. At worst, Elijah would have to do it for him -- something he'd rather avoid, but far from the worst thing that could happen.
"Taking control of a body I was quite enjoying," he said, "is neither polite nor charming, in my estimation. And while it may not have been kindly put, you cannot argue that I was dishonest. If there is a use for you, you have not offered it yet."
No one was ever obligated to be useful, of course. But neither was he obligated to treat them as anything but useless.
"Should you have the capacity to be as pleasing as the one you replaced, I shall be happy to act the gracious host," he said. He did not specify that he meant the taste of her as much as all else.
He'd prodded at a sore spot, and he'd never been the sort to leave them be. "Oh?" Millennia of practice had made him very good at playing at innocent curiosity. "But names assigned are usually done so by a creator of some sort, I had thought. How pessimistic." The coat of his suit was still draped over her shoulders, and he made no move to retrieve it. It was quite ruined by now, anyway.
From context, he could tell that she was referring to Rylan. Whether it was a true title or some kind of mockery, that he could not distinguish. He would not ask, because to ask would be to confess to ignorance, and it did not at that moment suit him to do so. He smoothed a hand over his hair, accomplishing nothing, and brushed at his shoulders. It was seeming inevitable that no amount of straightening would actually do him any good. He was going to have to change entirely, or else serve his customers looking as if... well. As if he'd been fucking in the garden.
No need to go being obvious about it.
"Dogs do not like me," he murmured, and was it any wonder when he was what he was. "Do you mean Elijah? I do not doubt that he does. You are not subtle, dear."
Or, hell. If he couldn't annoy her, he might have settled for making her climax again. Same body and different minds; that could be fun.
But with Belial giving him nothing of interest on which to feast in either direction, Jean opted to withdraw from her. No longer pinned to the tree, she was free to fall or to stand as she saw fit, Jean making no move to catch her as he fastened his trousers and brushed them straight on his legs. If she attempted to flee, he assumed he could catch her, and so it did not concern him unduly. At worst, Elijah would have to do it for him -- something he'd rather avoid, but far from the worst thing that could happen.
"Taking control of a body I was quite enjoying," he said, "is neither polite nor charming, in my estimation. And while it may not have been kindly put, you cannot argue that I was dishonest. If there is a use for you, you have not offered it yet."
No one was ever obligated to be useful, of course. But neither was he obligated to treat them as anything but useless.
"Should you have the capacity to be as pleasing as the one you replaced, I shall be happy to act the gracious host," he said. He did not specify that he meant the taste of her as much as all else.
He'd prodded at a sore spot, and he'd never been the sort to leave them be. "Oh?" Millennia of practice had made him very good at playing at innocent curiosity. "But names assigned are usually done so by a creator of some sort, I had thought. How pessimistic." The coat of his suit was still draped over her shoulders, and he made no move to retrieve it. It was quite ruined by now, anyway.
From context, he could tell that she was referring to Rylan. Whether it was a true title or some kind of mockery, that he could not distinguish. He would not ask, because to ask would be to confess to ignorance, and it did not at that moment suit him to do so. He smoothed a hand over his hair, accomplishing nothing, and brushed at his shoulders. It was seeming inevitable that no amount of straightening would actually do him any good. He was going to have to change entirely, or else serve his customers looking as if... well. As if he'd been fucking in the garden.
No need to go being obvious about it.
"Dogs do not like me," he murmured, and was it any wonder when he was what he was. "Do you mean Elijah? I do not doubt that he does. You are not subtle, dear."
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - megs - 05-14-2015
He released her and she settled both feet on the ground once more. She adjusted her own garments as he righted himself. With lace and garters all back in place, she unclasped the now worthless bra and simply removed it. She made a motion as if she was handing it off to someone behind her, and it disappeared into one of the shadows cast by the towering oak. She slipped her arms into the sleeves of the jacket he'd insofar left on her person and made a face.
"Perhaps there is no use for me," she resigns, with a careless wave of her hand; thoroughly chastised. "Worthless and aptly named after all it seems. A pity." With a chuckle she took a few steps away from him to test her boundaries. She rounded the tree until she could see the bookstore. He went on about her name again, and she ignored him. Not interested in his attempt to rub salt into an open wound. She turned her head from either side as if contemplating something, and sending the dripping ponytail swinging.
He seemed unusually fond of Rylan and Belial could do nothing about the way she tasted. Therefore, had no way of pleasing him currently. Regardless of how waspish she was, she knew better than to stay past her welcome. In this case she had not been invited at all so, that particular moment had already come and gone. She was done trying to push Jean's buttons for now. He was not turning out to be as entertaining as she'd imagined, anyhow.
Elijah hovering close was doing little for her comfort levels, besides.
She could manage boredom, however, because as long as Rylan was here her body was safe (and with it, Belial). Well, safe from her brother. The good thing about Old Town was warlocks tended to avoid it. She still did not know if Jean, himself, could be equated with safety.
"Well," Belial began. All feigned softness, and sultry purrs. She turned around and stepped closer to him. She lifted a hand to finger the end of his tie. "When you get tired of playing hot-dom-bookkeeper with her majesty, just let me know." It was stated as a fact, and not a suggestion. Which was resounding of Belial's misplaced confidence.
The demon did seem to wait for a response. Eyes faded into a familiar, crystalline green and Rylan's ear immediately pinned back towards the crown of her head. She looked like an animal that had just been scolded. Belial was a force she could not control and the demon had gotten her into more bad situations than she could count. She met Jean's eyes and her ears briefly pushed forward before falling to either side. Her lifted to curl tight against the line of her back. "I'm sorry." She didn't know what Belial had done or said, but she apologized immediately. She knew that a moment had been ruined and that Jean did not look pleased. "I should go."
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Tindome - 05-15-2015
He was surprised by how personally she seemed to take his rebuff of her interest – and that, ironically, made her interesting. He clasped his hands behind his back, and watched curiously as she tried to play the part of the temptress.
She was not wrong, of course. He would get bored. He always got bored. Another time and place, and her offer would have been shelved for later consideration. But consorting with demons in regard to their hosts did not suit his recent attempts at reformation, and so he would need to find some other solution when the day came that Rylan held no interest for him.
Rhys would present a similar problem. In neither case could he simply wait for them to outgrow him, as he had sometimes done. Elijah would be pleased to get rid of them, but this was not a kind solution. Not cruel, but still, not kind.
Preparing for his own future fickleness was worrying work.
His face blossomed into a smile as Rylan made her reappearance, which may have been inappropriate, considering her state of mind. It didn't help that she was a welcome relief, as tastes went. Dark, dark cocoa, perhaps, with sea salt.
"But why should you leave," he asked, "when you have only just returned?" He took her face in his hands to press his lips gently to hers before she could stop him. "And surely you cannot leave now," he added, "when I have made such a terrible mess of you." He brushed his hands quite meaningfully over her sweater, nothing underneath it any longer. "I will need to change my clothes, I should think; perhaps I can find something for you that I have not set to ruin, non?" And she would look very pretty, wouldn't she, wearing his clothes in his bedroom. Her Majesty, Belial had said, and he wondered how she'd look in a ballgown at his feet.
Then again, very few people looked poorly in a ballgown at his feet. It was a flattering look.
Later, later.
"Or have I been used, ma belle chatte," he teased, "and now you are done with me? Discarded now that you have had your pleasure – ah, so cruel." He pressed the backs of his fingers to his forehead to feign a swoon, as if his claims or reaction were even remotely plausible to anyone.
She was not wrong, of course. He would get bored. He always got bored. Another time and place, and her offer would have been shelved for later consideration. But consorting with demons in regard to their hosts did not suit his recent attempts at reformation, and so he would need to find some other solution when the day came that Rylan held no interest for him.
Rhys would present a similar problem. In neither case could he simply wait for them to outgrow him, as he had sometimes done. Elijah would be pleased to get rid of them, but this was not a kind solution. Not cruel, but still, not kind.
Preparing for his own future fickleness was worrying work.
His face blossomed into a smile as Rylan made her reappearance, which may have been inappropriate, considering her state of mind. It didn't help that she was a welcome relief, as tastes went. Dark, dark cocoa, perhaps, with sea salt.
"But why should you leave," he asked, "when you have only just returned?" He took her face in his hands to press his lips gently to hers before she could stop him. "And surely you cannot leave now," he added, "when I have made such a terrible mess of you." He brushed his hands quite meaningfully over her sweater, nothing underneath it any longer. "I will need to change my clothes, I should think; perhaps I can find something for you that I have not set to ruin, non?" And she would look very pretty, wouldn't she, wearing his clothes in his bedroom. Her Majesty, Belial had said, and he wondered how she'd look in a ballgown at his feet.
Then again, very few people looked poorly in a ballgown at his feet. It was a flattering look.
Later, later.
"Or have I been used, ma belle chatte," he teased, "and now you are done with me? Discarded now that you have had your pleasure – ah, so cruel." He pressed the backs of his fingers to his forehead to feign a swoon, as if his claims or reaction were even remotely plausible to anyone.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - megs - 05-15-2015
A smile she was not expecting brought a sense of relief in a wave. When he kissed her she calmed, considerably. She no longer appeared like she was cowering. She was all perky ears and fluffy tail that swayed behind her shoulders. It was unusual for the demoness to not leave her in a circumstance that had been thoroughly ruined. Belial was not above getting herself into a bad situation and then leaving Rylan to deal with the consequences.
Consequences that tended to involve grievous bodily injury.
Though, if she had not made herself known to cause a scene, what had been her intention, Rylan wondered.
She looked down at herself as he skimmed across her sweater. Despite Belial's previous efforts, there was no hiding the obvious state of disarray she was currently in. She didn't blush the time, at his double entendre of a nickname. She cocked her head and her ears fell lopsided. The corner of her mouth curved slightly as he played at being the injured party. "I would like to stay. If you would have me do so. Most people don't. Is all."
She was very capable of getting others to push her away, even without the demon's help. Generally, there was little use for shy kittens. One of the things she liked about him was that he spoke to her without knowing how she would react, or if she would respond at all. He put forth an effort that he was unaccustomed to. Especially, since she felt there was very little for him to gain by doing so.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Tindome - 05-25-2015
Cream and sugar, her relief and her pleasure when he declared his willingness to keep her. He could have swept her along, still, but instead he draped his arm over her shoulders. "If you would help me, Rylan," he said, "I would be most appreciative. Too much activity for my leg, I fear, old man that I am." This was not true, but his leg did sometimes bother him. Never after sex, but, well. She had no way of knowing that. In a way, it was barely a lie at all, or so he could tell himself. He was much too large to actually put the whole of his weight on her, but it was an excuse, anyway. He kissed playfully at one furred ear. He lead them inside, both a terrible mess even if he hadn't been playing the invalid, and coaxed her on a detour so that he could stick his head into the front of the shop.
"Pardon," he said, to everyone and no one, the wet curl hanging over his forehead giving him away. "I did not mean to take so long, mes amies, mais, I have run into some trouble with my shirt." And coat, and pants, and her shirt, and… "If you would please, my darlings, only watch the store a little longer, I shall return to work soon so that you may play. Yes?" He did not actually promise, a fact that would not elude Elijah for a moment. Before the man could complain he had disappeared back into the hall and shut the door, not actually waiting for a response.
Terribly rude, but he would make up for it later. And anyway, he would be very surprised if Rhys could not keep herself entertained with Elijah, and Elijah with the pretty blonde. He was doing them a favor, really, not stealing him away. They ought to have been grateful.
… perhaps that was a bit much. But, ah well.
"Would you help me upstairs, pet? You can help me pick out a new suit, perhaps."
"Pardon," he said, to everyone and no one, the wet curl hanging over his forehead giving him away. "I did not mean to take so long, mes amies, mais, I have run into some trouble with my shirt." And coat, and pants, and her shirt, and… "If you would please, my darlings, only watch the store a little longer, I shall return to work soon so that you may play. Yes?" He did not actually promise, a fact that would not elude Elijah for a moment. Before the man could complain he had disappeared back into the hall and shut the door, not actually waiting for a response.
Terribly rude, but he would make up for it later. And anyway, he would be very surprised if Rhys could not keep herself entertained with Elijah, and Elijah with the pretty blonde. He was doing them a favor, really, not stealing him away. They ought to have been grateful.
… perhaps that was a bit much. But, ah well.
"Would you help me upstairs, pet? You can help me pick out a new suit, perhaps."
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - megs - 05-25-2015
Rylan, wordlessly, agreed to his request, smoothing a hand over his back and placing one against his chest. She could have supported him, had he actually needed it, but instead she walked in time with him. Enjoying the closeness as they walked back to the shop. Her boots crunched over leaves that had managed to stray dry in the mist, unlike her ears. The fur clung together and they twitched against his lips.
When they were inside, and they made that small appearance to address the others, she suddenly managed to appear more like she was cowering. Hiding herself from Rhys and Elijah with his body. She was not particularly afraid of them, but Elijah was not subtle in projecting distaste. As for Rhys … well, she did not know anything about Rhys, but she knew that she and Jean shared a bed at times. Alternatively, Rylan spent a lot of her time with Jean, and that was usually enough to displease someone.
Her ears perked when he spoke to her, tail resuming a gentle sway around her knees. "I think I would like that," she says quietly, as they walked towards the stairs.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Tindome - 06-06-2015
The stairs were narrow, and so to persist in his claims that he required her as a crutch he let her lead him up the stairs, his hands on her shoulders. "Do not worry about Elijah," he assured her. "He is… well. He is not harmless. But he will not harm you, nor will he speak ill of you."
As he had already spoken ill of her, that was a lie. He nonetheless was unlikely to do so in her presence, knowing Jean would disapprove, and so he thought he could get away with it. He couldn't be expected to be perfectly honest all of the time, surely. A white lie could not possibly worse than a lie of omission, and he committed that sin quite regularly.
Hands on her hips guided her past the office and the second bedroom, to the master bedroom. It had been left unlocked by the two with whom he shared it, and his bed remained on the rumpled side of things. As soon as the door had shut behind them, he was unbuttoning his shirt with surprising efficiency.
He was not above a carefully-fashioned striptease, but it seemed a little like dragging the horse after the cart, metaphorically speaking.
"There are towels in the bathroom," he said with a tilt of his head in the appropriate direction, "if you would like to dry yourself a bit." He shrugged his shirt off his shoulders, looking thoughtful. "I do not think I have many clothes for women in here," he said, "aside from those belonging to the Signorina, of course. You figures are not quite the same, though I am certainly not complaining."
His wardrobe, while extensive, did not feature much that would be comfortable for a woman to borrow. Comfort was the furthest thing from his mind, all of his clothing instead carefully fitted. Was there anything to spare? Maybe in storage downstairs, or in the other room…
Jean frowned at the notion, even as he sat on the bed to unlace his shoes. Lumpy sweaters and shapeless flannel were hardly the sort of thing he wanted to offer to anyone. For any number of reasons.
As he had already spoken ill of her, that was a lie. He nonetheless was unlikely to do so in her presence, knowing Jean would disapprove, and so he thought he could get away with it. He couldn't be expected to be perfectly honest all of the time, surely. A white lie could not possibly worse than a lie of omission, and he committed that sin quite regularly.
Hands on her hips guided her past the office and the second bedroom, to the master bedroom. It had been left unlocked by the two with whom he shared it, and his bed remained on the rumpled side of things. As soon as the door had shut behind them, he was unbuttoning his shirt with surprising efficiency.
He was not above a carefully-fashioned striptease, but it seemed a little like dragging the horse after the cart, metaphorically speaking.
"There are towels in the bathroom," he said with a tilt of his head in the appropriate direction, "if you would like to dry yourself a bit." He shrugged his shirt off his shoulders, looking thoughtful. "I do not think I have many clothes for women in here," he said, "aside from those belonging to the Signorina, of course. You figures are not quite the same, though I am certainly not complaining."
His wardrobe, while extensive, did not feature much that would be comfortable for a woman to borrow. Comfort was the furthest thing from his mind, all of his clothing instead carefully fitted. Was there anything to spare? Maybe in storage downstairs, or in the other room…
Jean frowned at the notion, even as he sat on the bed to unlace his shoes. Lumpy sweaters and shapeless flannel were hardly the sort of thing he wanted to offer to anyone. For any number of reasons.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Angel Kimmi - 06-06-2015
Aquamarine eyes drifted back over to the duo standing near the counter and he watched them from what seemed to him as a safe distance. His gaze was arrested momentarily when another seemingly very wet individual made his presence known, an equally wet young woman at his side. One that seemed perhaps as shy as he, from the way she hid behind the tall, handsome raven-haired male before they left once more. In order to get out of his wet clothes he gathered from what little of the conversation, or rather one sided conversation, he had heard.The only thing he was currently certain of was he wanted to stay both because of the books and the fact that the current…employees, for lack of a better word intrigued him. Even the young woman with the strangely coloured hair didn’t seem nearly as intimidating from this distance now that she was not invading his personal space. Now was a time he wished he had a more extensive knowledge in human interactions and social etiquette, something he was lacking.
Perhaps it would have made him feel better to know that those who spent their time in this place didn’t fit into any of those normal parameters anyway. He was possibly the most 'normal' or at least the most human of them. Something he might find out if he stuck around long enough, or maybe not.
Straightening he ran his fingers through the pale blonde strands, as more droplets joined the small puddle he was accumulating. Perhaps it would have been a better idea to put his clothes in the dryer after all…he was going to stain the hardwood. Shrugging off his jacket he folded it over his arm before glancing back over towards them and steeled himself, he could do this…it was easy. People did it every day…right? He took a two steps and then hesitated and bit his bottom lip.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - megs - 06-06-2015
Rylan lead him up the stairs, providing support she was sure he didn't need. She would not point this out, or complain, because she was entirely too starved for contact to be bothered.
Ears fell against her hair, not necessarily pinning in the anxious way the usually did; mostly just to hear him better. She did not believe him, when he spoke of Elijah. Even though she had no reason not to. It was hard to determine whether people were just very good at hurting her, or if she was just very easily hurt, either way, she remained cautious.
Poor, sad Rylan. Worthlessly timid, and eager to please, she did not do well when people didn't like her. "I just don’t know what I did," she admitted, tail motionless between them as to not be a nuisance.
His hands moved to her waist, and she was being lead now, down the hall to a room she'd not expected to ever see. Easier to pin her to trees, or bend her over desks than to invite her into a bedroom. This one in particular was quite full, already, with the three of them.
Rylan pushed off her boots and left them by the door, before moving into the room to sit at the foot of the bed in a strangely practiced-looking series of events. She sat with her back to Jean, knees apart and her butt on the ground with her feet behind her. Her tail had picked up it's gentle sway, and she didn't move when he offered her a towel.
She pawed at her ears, instead. A very feline movement that would set the fur back into rights. They fell lopsided, so she dropped her hands, and looked at him over her shoulder. Differing figures aside, she did not seem interested Rhys' clothing.
"I can go home," she offered, turning her gaze away from him again. She did not move, however, remaining her in very submissive looking posture.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Angel Kimmi - 06-07-2015
Zakiel wavered, it felt like butterflies had taken up residence in his stomach and his hands had gone ice cold, still that didn’t stop the sweaty sensation on his palms. His heartbeat accelerated just in those two steps and he could hear it pounding loudly in his ears amid the quiet bookstore, so loud that a part of him wondered if they would hear it even though he knew it was impossible. He breathed in deeply before exhaling, causing the blonde bangs to shift with the exhale. Anyone would think he was going to go confess his love instead of just talking to someone he thought annoyed at himself, frowning as he rubbed his palms against his thighs.
Straightening his shoulders his gaze flitted in the general direction of the other two before it shifted again. Instead he focused on the wooden desk which was somewhat less intimidating than walking up to two people he’d basically ignored previously. It only took moments and then the counter was there in front of him.
He looked up from beneath blonde strands at the two. Apologise, he told himself firmly as he opened his mouth, “Ah…that is…erm, I’m sorry. I got caught up in my own thoughts I didn’t mean to ignore you. I think I should…perhaps, accept your offer-“ He was cut off by a tickling in his nose and he bent slightly as he brought his hands up in time to sneeze, dropping his coat as he did so.
The soft, higher pitched sound escaped him which his sisters had likened to a kitten in the past and surprisingly cute. Causing him to blush after the third consecutive sneeze. Sniffling in response and he wondered if he was getting a cold from his excursion in the rain, trying not to think about the embarrassing sounds.
"Er...perhaps I should get out of these wet clothes..." he stated before sneezing again.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Tindome - 06-07-2015
"It is nothing that you did," he told her, though he doubted this would assuage her concerns. "He is very protective," he explained, "and there is surely nothing so dangerous to the heart of an old man as a pretty girl." An attempt to deflect from the memories her features evoked, the demon within her that could pose a very real danger to anyone. Even Elijah did not know all the details, because Jean had guarded those secret years, precious to him as few things were.
Once in his bedroom, he was distracted by the matter of his wardrobe, as he so often and so easily was. Leather belt slid through his palms as he removed it to set it aside, letting his trousers fall negligently to the floor. He hummed an old tune as he skimmed through his clothing, trying to decide on a suit. Basic black? A dark grey? Something a bit more bold? The season and the weather did not suit anything bright.
Ah, well. He needed to dry his hair first, anyway. Rylan could always pick something for him; maybe they could find a way to match. He turned to step out of his closet, but as he caught sight of Rylan cleaning her ears, she resembled so very much--
He bit his tongue as his leg tried to give out, a spasm of pain that should not have bothered him with his eyes as bright as they were. He tasted blood as he gripped a rail in the closet, though the skin closed as quickly as he'd removed his teeth. Licking his teeth, he brought himself upright, having visibly faltered for only a moment.
"If you please, min-- Rylan." He rubbed at the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. Stand up, get off the floor, do anything at all but look like that, act like her. "Please, dear, could you get a towel for me? I need another moment to think, it seems." He did not care to open his eyes again, and it did not do to imagine the sight he must have made, stricken in an abundance of clothing he was not wearing, minimal black silk on marble white skin.
Once in his bedroom, he was distracted by the matter of his wardrobe, as he so often and so easily was. Leather belt slid through his palms as he removed it to set it aside, letting his trousers fall negligently to the floor. He hummed an old tune as he skimmed through his clothing, trying to decide on a suit. Basic black? A dark grey? Something a bit more bold? The season and the weather did not suit anything bright.
Ah, well. He needed to dry his hair first, anyway. Rylan could always pick something for him; maybe they could find a way to match. He turned to step out of his closet, but as he caught sight of Rylan cleaning her ears, she resembled so very much--
He bit his tongue as his leg tried to give out, a spasm of pain that should not have bothered him with his eyes as bright as they were. He tasted blood as he gripped a rail in the closet, though the skin closed as quickly as he'd removed his teeth. Licking his teeth, he brought himself upright, having visibly faltered for only a moment.
"If you please, min-- Rylan." He rubbed at the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. Stand up, get off the floor, do anything at all but look like that, act like her. "Please, dear, could you get a towel for me? I need another moment to think, it seems." He did not care to open his eyes again, and it did not do to imagine the sight he must have made, stricken in an abundance of clothing he was not wearing, minimal black silk on marble white skin.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - megs - 06-08-2015
A brief irritation flared in her; ears standing at attention once more. "That is a very strange concern for him to have," she muses. In short she neither considered Jean conventionally old, nor herself any form of pretty. Aside from these factors, being a threat to his heart would require her to have a place in his heart, and she did not have any illusions about accomplishing that. Let alone in only three days time. Her tail curled against the line of her spine, accompanying the frown he could not see.
Green eyes watched him, shamelessly, as he moved around the room, and they almost seemed to glow with reflected light. She was silent and unobtrusive from her spot on the floor.
She looked around the room, taking in the details of it, as he hummed from the closet. When the soft sound stopped her ears swiveled in his direction before she turned her head to follow, oblivious to the idea that she was causing him distress. Her tail snapped into her lap, and she immediately buried her hands in the damp, silver fur when he addressed her. It was a comforting gesture, almost as if she would hide behind the appendage if she could. She had panicked, because he looked upset with her, and she often tried very hard not to upset anyone.
He'd not responded to her suggestion, but voiced a request that she quickly rose to carry out, without protest, releasing her tail in the process.
She moved into the bathroom, stockinged feet undetectable on the carpet, and pulled a plush towel from a stack of them. When she approached Jean it was only close enough for him to take the towel from her, holding the fabric at the height of her chest and trying to cling to it.
"Is everything alright?" It was hardly more than a murmur. Her eyes scanned his face, trying to find an indication of a problem, because he wouldn't look at her. Her ears pinned back and her tail swayed irratically behind her shoulder.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Tindome - 06-09-2015
He could have clarified that the risk to his heart was not truly his doing, that rather she was a potential irritant to an existing wound. An empty space with furred ears and a tail, and though she did not quite fit it was a reminder of that absence. Elijah could tell that the effect she had on him was not what it should have been, and so he distrusted her immediately for it. "He is a strange man," he said instead of explaining any of that. It wasn't a lie, per se.
That briefest glimpse, before his eyes shut, of the way she gripped her tail. Familiar, and awful for it, large red eyes hiding behind black fur. Hiding behind her tail, hugging her tail to herself like she could draw comfort from it, leaving him absolutely wretched. How foolish he'd been, to think he'd managed to separate them in his mind. The reality instead was that she'd behaved differently as she grew comfortable, and when she acted more the cat than the woman it all came back in an ache in his leg.
It was not the best response to the situation to grab her as soon as she was within reach, but it was what it was. He pulled her against his chest, not gently and not as a kindness, arms around the whole of her so her own arms were trapped. His cheek ran along hers, burying his face in her hair, eyes still shut as he held her. She'd gone bitter with anxiety and the slightest bit of fear, but she tasted entirely herself, felt the woman that she was and not the girl that she wasn't.
He really should not have given in to the temptation to have sex with her. This… was complicated.
Jean sighed. "Nothing you did, pet," he murmured, "nothing you did." He ought to have let her go home as she had suggested, but he did not let her go.
That briefest glimpse, before his eyes shut, of the way she gripped her tail. Familiar, and awful for it, large red eyes hiding behind black fur. Hiding behind her tail, hugging her tail to herself like she could draw comfort from it, leaving him absolutely wretched. How foolish he'd been, to think he'd managed to separate them in his mind. The reality instead was that she'd behaved differently as she grew comfortable, and when she acted more the cat than the woman it all came back in an ache in his leg.
It was not the best response to the situation to grab her as soon as she was within reach, but it was what it was. He pulled her against his chest, not gently and not as a kindness, arms around the whole of her so her own arms were trapped. His cheek ran along hers, burying his face in her hair, eyes still shut as he held her. She'd gone bitter with anxiety and the slightest bit of fear, but she tasted entirely herself, felt the woman that she was and not the girl that she wasn't.
He really should not have given in to the temptation to have sex with her. This… was complicated.
Jean sighed. "Nothing you did, pet," he murmured, "nothing you did." He ought to have let her go home as she had suggested, but he did not let her go.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - megs - 06-09-2015
Rylan allowed the issue of Elijah to resolve, without further comment. She was no more willing to be around the man than she had been before, but she did like knowing the circumstances were not entirely her doing. Perhaps he would quickly realize that she was not a threat, and they could get along. At the very least.
Surprised, she made the softest of feline trills when he pulled her against him. Stepping over the towel she dropped, she was crushed against his chest in a gesture she had not expected. She was mostly still in his grasp, save for even breathing and the gentle sway of her tail. Her ears were at attention and her gaze fixated on the wall behind him as he hid his face in the fall of her hair.
She could tell that this was more for his benefit, than hers. Rylan may not have been able to sense emotions as he could, but sometimes feelings were more obvious. What purpose the embrace actually served remained a mystery, however. She would have held him in return, had her hands not been pinned against his skin, and if she'd thought it would help. She rested her chin against his shoulder, purring quietly in some attempt to be of comfort.
It could not have been entirely ideal, her clothing was still a bit damp, and he was still without. Nothing she had done, he reassured, and she immediately felt better for it.
"Do you have any shirts in blue?" She inquired after a few silent moments. Her voice was soft, and it was a silly, vague question for a man with such an extensive wardrobe. He had originally suggested she help him pick a suit. Her intention had been to distract, more than anything else, from whatever it was that was bothering him.
Tsundoku - Antique and Well-Loved Books - Blade - 06-12-2015
Thoughts passed on and slipped away the moment he noticed Rhys next to him. Vibrant magenta eyes looked over at her and his lips made a flat line as she went about humming a tune. Was the Book trying to annoy him? Book was an apt nickname in his mind for her, even if he would never voice it aloud.“Must you?” he murmured before turning to go towards the kitchens. Though, the actions outside had him stilling again, his back to Rhys. The party of two coming in had his bright eyes turning to Rylan first, narrowing, before turning to Jean as he spoke. It would be easy to argue with his master, to say something quite rude veiled in politeness the taste of cream and honey. But, he had not the time to do as much, for as his mouth opened? Jean rushed them out of the room.
A single fist clenched next to his side, but he did nothing more that lift it and straighten his curls; the ones that held some sophisticated silvered disarray.
“Play, indeed,” he murmured aloud.
The boy spoke aloud to Rhys and himself, but his mind was elsewhere. Runes along his skin, gold and blazing, glowed under the crispness of his suit. Was it an angry energy? Perhaps, or perhaps not. It could not be helped that he disliked the kitten. He did not like the way she made Jean feel—the way she made him feel now. But, there was nothing he could do, he told himself. Not with his master stowed away privately with the girl.
Later, very later, there would be much that he would say about the ache, the pain, and the way it all broke at the core of Elijah. His eyes shut and he tried to push it down.
“I’m going to the kitchen,” he said loudly enough that Rhys would hear. He needed a moment. “Please help our guest.” And then he was gone, slipping through the door and towards the very room he’d sought.
Coffee… perhaps the burn would help, as little as he needed it.