Strictly Business [Closed] - Printable Version
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RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 08-30-2018
Darcias waited patiently, and surprisingly quietly, given how animated she had been upon her arrival. The cheerful fae watched as he moved around kitchen, preparing the beverage she had requested, not at all bothered by the idea of someone serving her. Not because she was known to be haughty royalty, but because she had learned to appreciate being treated. She cocked her head to the sound of the kettle meeting the gas stove. It was somehow such a familiar sound to her. A chirrup of laughter from her position at the table. "That kettle is ancient," she commented, pointing to the blue, cast iron tetsubin, that was older than Julianna. It's age wasn't advertised by how well cared for it was. "I can't believe she still has it. Brought it home from a trip to Japan when she was a little girl."Though he seemed very intrigued by her pleasant commentary, Owen excused himself and Darcias pardoned him with a polite wave of her hand. This time, in his absence, she did produce a phone to entertain herself. A slim device slid from the back pocket of her pristine white jeans. She tapped through messages, and reminders, flicking them away with swipes of her thin fingers. She opened an app, a colorful and pixelated puzzle game with a jaunty 8-bit soundtrack.
Swirling eyes darted upwards to the faint whistling of the kettle, but she didn't move to see to it. Trusting in Owen's swift return. He reappeared, and her phone disappeared. Polite as ever. She thanked Owen for the tea, pouring herself a cup. There was something in her movements. The precise placement of her hands, and the flowing, practiced motions of serving herself that were elevated above simple day to day actions. Graceful, and silent, without the noise of the spoon hitting the sides of the mug as she stirred honey and lemon into the dark liquid. Regal. Royal, just like Julianna.
"Well, this is a bit unexpected," she revealed. "Julianna mentioned you were out of town. Something you needed to procure for your upcoming promotion." She lifted the mug, and blew steam away before taking a small sip. Her gaze slid to something at the other end of the nook. A few notebooks, and a collection of pens resided against the wall. It was clear a few were missing. Darcias reached and pulled one from the selection, a heavy fountain pen, sleek and black, it was filled with a sky blue ink that had flecks of gold in it. "I see she still does this," Darcias wiggled the pen. "She has always had this...thing, about colors. Always insisted that everyone had their own. Was so obsessed with it that she started mixing her own inks as a hobby, just to match." Darcias returned the pen and fingered through some others. "Do you know what your color is?"
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 09-02-2018
As it turned out, just as he expected Darcias was full of surprises. Tidbits and factoids about Julianna. And an unexpected penchant for app games. Owen settled into his side of the booth ready for a good interrogation. Not that his questioning would be overly adversarial. He wouldn’t tip his hand that way. It was going to go nice and easy like a friendly game of ping-pong. Where Darcias was formal and elegant, Owen was casual and open. He sat back in the booth with an open posture. He planned what would appear to be spontaneous glances out the window to give her a break from his overly intense gaze. He’d been told that it was unsettling the way he watched people.
“My promotion.” A carefully timed glance at the yard. The trees were really beginning to look crunchy from the fall changes. He hummed as if he knew what she was talking about. “You know how these things go. Sometimes they work out. Sometimes not.” He hoped these bland generalities would give enough cover for his ‘unexpected’ presence at home.
The topic shifted back to Julianna. He watched slim fingers fiddle with one of those fancy pens. He knew better than to mess with them.
“Yeah. We discussed it once. Blue?” He shrugged as if the designation remained a mystery. “She wasn’t very forthcoming as to why. Personally, I thought it had something to do with the house’s trim. My real estate agent told me it brought out the blue in my eyes. What do you think?”
He leaned forward as if to give her a better look at his eyes but his questioning changed directions. “Why am I blue to her?” He stayed there for a second before letting his face crack into a slight grin and he leaned back again.
“She can be a tough nut to crack, you know?” He mused and glanced out the window again while he thought how to put it. “She gets this veneer. All professional and elegant... monarch-ical. Is that a word? Anyway, when she’s like that you can’t get below the surface. She’s very good at giving those I’m-not-answering-your-question answers. That good queen training.” Owen smiled at his coffee like he was proud of how difficult to reach she could be. “Yeah. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know her very well at all.... But that’s why you’re here right?” He winked full of charm. “To give me the dish.” His eyebrow raised, conspiratorial.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 09-11-2018
In an opposite effect, Darcias wasn't looking at Owen often or long enough to notice the intensity of his gaze or the timing of his glances. Swirling blue eyes always seemed to be looking this way and that. Bouncing across her company, or out the window, or to the secretarial paraphernalia Julianna had left on the table. "Well, Lieutenant General is no small matter," she mused, casually mentioning a rank that was four stations above his current role. "I'm sure I'll be seeing pictures from your next pinning ceremony soon enough." Darcias slipped the pen back into its designated spot, sipping her tea idly as Owen spoke. She laughed airily when he said blue, her eyes finally settling on him to observe the blue-grey irises he presented to her. "Blue," she repeated, mug of tea paused halfway to her mouth as her attention seemed to fade away from him. She looked upwards, a haze seemed to over take her features. "'Like the ocean,' she said. Calm on the surface, and idyllic from the distance. Hidden depths that threaten to drown you if you underestimated them."
Such a strangely poetic answer probably wasn't what Owen was expecting, but it sounded like Darcias was quoting the usually eloquent Julianna.
Blinking out of her would be trance, the fae leaned forward, moving on as if she'd not said the previous thing. She crossed her arms on the table as if the two of them were having a more private conversation. “Our mother never approved of strong shows of emotions,” she revealed. “Julianna keeps a majority of what she has going on inside. I think it has a lot to do with the trauma she suffered shadowing Raine.” The corners of her mouth turn downwards, and she looked sad for a moment. Humming thoughtfully, she leaned back into the booth again.
“But you know her better than anyone,” she chimed, suddenly smiling and bright again. “It’s easy to see."
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 09-16-2018
Owen couldn’t control the rise of his brows towards his forehead. Lieutenant General. He’d never admited to anyone outside of Darcy that his ambitions lay in that position and, perhaps, beyond. Surprise was fixed on his face as if etched there. His eyebrows kept pushing at his hairline and his lips even parted as she delivered that line about him. She delivered it like a quote. Like she was recalling it from memory. Had Julianna described him that way? His surprise melted into a sort of neutral frown. Not an unhappy one but more contemplative.
“Those are her words?” He asked as he stared down into his coffee before raising the mug to his mouth.
Her demeanor changed, but his concerned frown didn’t. “Trauma?” His head cocked ever so slightly to the side, like a dog hearing something far off. He shook his head and shrugged one shoulder. “She doesn’t talk to me about that stuff.” He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest closing himself and that line of conversation off. It wasn’t easy to see as she had claimed. What did that even mean?
Darcias obviously thought he and Julianna were much closer than they were. “Like I said. She keeps to herself. We’re not that close. We’re barely friends. I’m not sure if she would call me a friend or not.”
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 10-07-2018
Darcias poured herself another cup of tea, going through the same graceful motions as Owen responded to the things she had said. "Her post-traumatic stress disorder," she said to clarify. There was a curious lilt to her tone. As if she didn't understand why she was having to explain these things to him. 'From being abused? You know about that.' She spoke so matter-of-fact as she sipped her tea. "Our mother was very...unstable towards the end of her reign. Took too much of that instability out on Julianna." The spacey fae looked at him over the rim of the mug. Eyes narrowing in his direction, in thought, before her gaze slide towards the window. Not meant to be time like Owen's glances, merely not all there. She was laughing as she pulled the cup away from her mouth and set it silently upon the table. "You have such an interesting way of talking about your wife."
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 10-16-2018
The heavy words - abused, post-traumatic stress disorder - they froze him momentarily in his arms-folded posture. His eyebrows raised and a little shake of his head preceded his soft “No.” He looked away. “We don’t - we don’t talk about that stuff.” He made a mental note to research her mother. All of his efforts had been in researching Julianna herself, he hadn’t made it to the family that surrounded her. Maybe that was the key to understanding her. Or one of them. Owen balked at the casual reference to Julianna as his wife. “My - what?” His voice pitched higher and he felt heat rise to his face. Was he blushing? No. He certainly didn’t blush. And definitely not over girls.
“We’re not.” He laughed a nervous little chuckle and pulled at his earlobe. “I’m not - I’m single.” He faltered over his words having been completely thrown off. “I mean, I’m in a relationship. Just we’re not - I’m seeing someone else. And Julianna is - I don’t know honestly.”
He closed his mouth to stop himself from talking and resisted the urge to tap his fingers nervously. He tried to stay as still as possible while he stared at his conversation partner awkwardly.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 11-09-2018
Darcias regarded Owen carefully, over the rim of her mug. Her mouth was hidden by the plain porcelain, but her blue eyes still shone with something suspicious. Noticeable, despite the distracting swirl of her irises. "Single?" she parroted finally, voice pitching in confusion. "Well that can't be." She huffed. "What I mean to say is -" she dropped the mug to the table and hummed thoughtfully. Her eyes rolled away from him. As she looked out the window her brow furrowed, as if she was suddenly lost in a deep thought. "Someone else?" She muttered, as if to herself. Trying to puzzle out what he could have mean by the words.The fae was oblivious to the uncomfortable vibe she was bringing to the conversation. Believing wholeheartedly that the strange things she was saying were true.
Meanwhile, at the entry to the house, the door opened. Swinging wide and closing again with discernable vigor. Drusilla had returned. It was a wonder that she didn't just suddenly appear next to them at the breakfast nook. Despite the cold dread and horrified surprise she had experienced upon hearing the voicemail Owen had left for her, there was still room for propriety, and she entered through the front door as she always did.
Heels clicked, sharp and quick, on the tile as she navigated to the kitchen from the foyer. She appeared in the room, suddenly, but attempting to appear reserved. The sight of someone who was rushing, but didn't want to look rushed, but her hair shifted over her shoulders in such a way to suggest that she could have been running; stopping just before getting to the kitchen. Her face was a neutral mask, arms still full of files, and mail from the base and personal belongings. She held the load against her chest, nearly concealing the turtleneck of her sweater. It was a sweater, but also a dress. Creamy white and thick cable knit. It hung without clinging to her figure, but not in such a way that made her look frumpy. Some would think it dangerously short, but Drusilla never seemed to notice. As if to make up for the length (or lack thereof) of the dress, she wore a pair of black velvet thigh high boots. Her ears stood at stout attention, and her gaze zeroed in on the shining fae sitting at the breakfast nook.
The princess' head turned quickly, and perhaps if she'd had a tail of her own it would be swaying back and forth like a happy pet.
"Darcias," she breathed, and the other woman only perked more. Excited. Drusilla was too shocked to sound scolding. Woeful to admit that she wasn't sure the last time she had seen her sister. Spoken to her... It was just so difficult to interact with her. With the way she was, and the things she said. As if remembering the setting, her eyes darted to Owen, seated across from her sister. "Lieutenant Colonel." The words sounded like both a greeting and an apology.
"I am so sorry for my sister's intrusion."
"Intrusion?" Darcias parroted, shocked that her kin would suggest she was uninvited.
"Yes," Drusilla hissed, between clenched teeth, ears pinning backwards. "What are you doing here?"
White wings shuddered above her head to mirror the offense Darcias was showing on her face. "I came to see the baby!" The insistence that she had abandoned earlier, was renewed in the wave of Dru's displeasure. "And meet your husband, finally."
When Darcias gestured to Owen, Dru startled in such a way that she almost dropped everything she was holding. Her ears twitched as she scrambled to readjust and reclaim her grip on the files. "W-what?" She stood straight again, but her mask had been cracked by her sister's words. Drusilla appeared startled, confused, and almost hurt. "I think you're confused." A nervous candence to her tail started up as she looked at Owen again. "I think we should call Parker to take you home."
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 11-28-2018
There was an obvious awkwardness that fell between them. The interaction had been somewhat awkward from the start but it had reached the level of painful. Owen looked down into his coffee mug. He tilted it and started at his reflection. He looked tired.Owen looked towards the direction of the front door when it swung open in a rush. “That's her.” He said. Rapid clicks of her heels announced themselves just before she did in the the entry to the kitchen.
He stood when Drusilla entered the room. The gesture belied his statements that they weren’t an item. The corner of his mouth turned up. A slight smile. She looked lovely and cozy in her autumn sweater dress. But it was also the rushed air about her that appealed to him. The way her hair was swept back from her shoulders.
Owen nodded when she greeted him and he moved to refill his coffee. “It’s no trouble.” He said idly as he poured from the decanter.
Owen’s brows lifted in surprise at the way Drusilla addressed her sister. He looked at Dru when he was identified as her husband. He gave her that sympathetic smile that people give one another when they experience something mutually awkward.
He set down his coffee mug and crossed the room to relieve her of the files she was juggling. He flipped open the top most file to peruse the notes she had taken during the meeting. He could attend to their back and forth even as he skimmed the notes in her practiced hand.
“I told you we weren't married.” He said as his eyes scanned the page. Owen looked up at the mention of a name he didn’t recognize. He noticed the nervous movements of Dru’s tail and the anxiety in her face. He frowned. Just what was upsetting her so much? The idea of being married to him was that offensive.
“Who is Parker?” He asked in his Lieutenant Colonel voice displaying his displeasure with how this was all going. Sure, Darcias said awkward and startling things but did Drusilla have to be unpleasant to her sister? It clicked together that her anxiety rested in getting rid of her sister as soon as possible lest Owen find anything out about her that she didn't want.
What was she still hiding from him?
“There’s no rush for her to leave. She came all the way to see you.” He gave Dru a challenging stare.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 01-06-2019
Drusilla was aware of Owen in her periphery, but she couldn't bear to look at him again, in that moment. Not with her sister saying such outrageous things about the both of them. Harder to look still, when she knew the true nature of the things Darcias was saying. Darcias' visions of the future, the way she could see every possibility at once. Her words meant that somehow, somewhere, there was a future where she and Owen were married. Where they had children. She didn't want to hear about it, didn't want to think about something as far-fetched and heart-breaking as that. Owen lifted the files out of her hands, and she no longer had anything to fidget with. She smoothed her hands over the front of her sweater before the fell to her sides. Fingers curled into tight fists, she could feel the bite of her manicured nails leaving little half-moon marks in her palms. "We're not married," she repeated, synchronous with Owen. Darcias only blinked up at the pair standing over her with those wide, swirling eyes. It made Darcias looked so lost, and innocent, and so completely incongruous with the way she spoke.
Darcias spoke with a confidence that she could not afford. The young fae was aware of her predicament, seeing so many things at once, and unable to parse them. Drusilla impressed that she needed to be more selective with the way she interacted with people, to not just say whatever she saw or thought to be true, but the princess rarely listened. "Parker is my watcher," Darcias explained with some excitement, wings twitching because the couldn't quite flare out in the space of the breakfast nook. Drusilla noticed the tone he was using, when Darcias didn't. Her ears pushed to attention and she finally noticed the way she was towering over her seated sibling, so she took a step back. Her tail still twitched with her displeasure.
"The fae," she said, gesturing towards Darcias. "Are separated into several prominent faerie families. One of those families, the Arden, act as watchers to the others. Watchers are like...historians, I suppose. Each one is assigned to another member of another family, and they are basically to record that beings life. Parker is Darcias' watcher."
It was more information than she was ready to give, but Drusilla felt as if she had no choice. She would have to find the line between what she was willing to give up, as to not have to reveal more than she wanted to. Drusilla knew that Owen suspected she was hiding things from him; their complicated history and her tendency to be closed off lended well to such thoughts. Darcias' presence wouldn't help. Drusilla wasn't ready for any of this.
Darcias giggled and clapped when Owen implied she was welcome to stay longer; in contrast, Drusilla looked at him again for the first time in a few passing minutes. It was a sharp look, challenging in it's own way. Green eyes flicked across his face from beneath pinched brows, trying to discover why he was contradicting her in this way. "Darcias, please inform Parker that you are ready to be picked up."
Darcias pouted, sensing this expression, Drusilla's eyes snapped towards her sister. The sharpness she had directed at Owen soon followed. "Where are you staying?"
A delicately pink painted lip pushed outwards as big, twisting blue eyes glittered up at her. Drusilla's stopped frowning, if only to keep Darcias' from bursting into tears like a spoiled child. Darcias' response to her question was to shrug, unenthusiastically, too embarrassed now to admit that she wanted to stay with Drusilla.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 01-10-2019
The cute excitability of Darcias in speaking of her watcher drew a half smile out of Owen. It turned somewhat darker when he glanced at Drusilla. “What an interesting family you have.” He said as if to accuse her of holding back things from him. He knew he didn’t have any right to know anything about her private life, but still there she was in the midst of his private life. She was so deep into his life that she was laundering the underwear of his halfway live-in girlfriend and he didn’t even know she had a sister before today. So he was accusing his not-wife of hiding things.He fell silent as the sisters went back and forth briefly between themselves. He couldn’t parse why Drusilla was so eager to get rid of her. Other than the embarrassing things that came out of Darcias’ mouth on the regular, Owen had found her to be fascinating company.
“I live in an essentially empty house.” Owen purposefully complicated the deliberations just to get under Drusilla’s skin. “But, I understand if you’d rather stay with your sister.” Owen said the thing that Darcias seemed unwilling to admit.
“Before I forget,” Owen moved to the counter and set down the files. He opened one and tore off a clean edge of one of Drusilla’s reports. He scrawled his number on the scrap of paper and offered it to Darcias. “If you can think of whose office you saw those Crystin Cerridwen’s -- because I assure you, they’ve never been in my office, not for lack of trying on my part -- give them my number. Some anonymous bidder snatched them out from under me a few years ago and I haven’t been able to track them down.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to work. It was nice to meet you, Darcias.” He bent down and kissed each of her cheeks displaying an Eskran way of parting. He turned to leave the room and glanced at Drusilla before he left. “When you’re finished here. My office.” It was obvious that he was quite a bit less amused with his assistant than usual. He left the sisters and closed himself in his office.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 01-17-2019
As Owen took his leave, with a final request for Drusilla to meet him in his office when she finally rid herself of Darcia's, Drusilla's tail fluffed and bristled to almost twice it's normal size. Not only had Darcias shown up unannounced and uninvited, her sister had also gone and gotten her in trouble. She was livid, if her tail was any sign, since her facial features were still a mostly neutral mask. While Drusilla secretly raged, Darcias was elegant and unaware as she bid Owen a farewell, delighted with the polite affection he showed her before his parting. The blonde watched him leave, finger-waving to his retreating back and giggling. When he disappeared out of the kitchen she turned her bright, swirling eyes on her sister with excitement. "Was he inviting me to stay with him? She asked, both unsure and hopeful. "That would be exciting wouldn't it? She was giggling again. "Could you imagine me staying with your-"
"No." Drusilla cut her off with that simple, single word. "It was not an invitation," she maybe lied, because she wasn't sure. "You are absolutely not staying here. This is my job," she complained.
Darcias was quiet for a moment. She mumbled something, casting her eyes downward as she did so and slumping back into the booth. Drusilla didn't force her to clarify. She exhaled sharply through her nose as her ears twitched rapidly on top of her head. "Call Parker to come get you," she said again.
"Do Owen know that you have those paintings?" Darcias asked this suddenly. The way she looked up at Drusilla now, was sharp and alert. A brief moment of lucidity in the noise of her mind.
"No, he does not."
Darcias hummed, her wings flawing as she stood from the booth a stretched. She looked around. "You didn't invite me here," she said matter-of-fact.
Drusilla shook her head.
"I said too much."
This time Drusilla nodded, and Darcias made a face. Embarrassed, and apologetic. When Darcias sighed her wings fluttered, she looked sad as if suddenly aware of the problems she could have caused. "I'm going to call Parker."
Darcias called her watcher and the sisters talked while they waited for him to arrive. Not about anything, banal pleasantries, Darcias would lose track of anything important the could have said when her mind clouded once more. When they said their farewells, Drusilla didn't apologize for her reaction, and Darcias didn't seem to notice.
When her younger sister was safely in the hands of Parker, Drusilla returned inside and made her way directly to Owen's office. She wasn't entirely interested in being chewed out for Darcias' interruption, but so be it. She knocked on the door once, before pushing open the barrier and stepping inside without waiting for a response. Her heels clicked on the wood flooring as she approached his desk, silently. Her tail had returned to it's normal size, and her face revealed nothing. "You wanted to see me," her tone was too diplomatic. His seated position gave her the benefit of looking down at him, for once.
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 01-27-2019
Though he willed himself to focus on the day's neglected work, Owen was too distracted. He swiveled in his chair and clicked his pen over and over and over ruminating over the eerily specific things Darcias had said. Ruminating over the things Drusilla had never said. All those secrets. And her face when Darcias described them as married. Was it really so awful, Dru? Couldn't you hide it? All that royal training laid to waste with one comment. He ignored the knock at his door and kept his eyes trained on the files in front of him as if he were actually reading them. He didn't look up until she spoke. His gaze settled on her like a wolf on prey.
He clicked his pen once retracting the tip of it. “I'm going to tell you a quick story.” He said as he leaned back in his chair. He was content to let her stand there for the moment. “My mother took me to see a seer once. This woman supposedly read my future.” He wiggled his fingers sarcastically. “She said some vague bullshit about me being an ‘important man’ someday but that I would pay an ultimate price. A blood price. Apparently this was upsetting enough that my mother slapped the bitch so hard she fell right off her chair. She was a fraud. Back alley kind of shit, you know?” He waved dismissively assuming Drusilla would know what he meant.
He tossed his pen on the desk and it skidded over the manilla folder to a stop. Owen leaned forward and grabbed Drusilla around the legs drawing her closer until her knees pressed against the edge of his chair. She stood right between his legs. He kept one hand on her thigh just below the hem of her dress.
“So tell me, is that your sister? Is she some fraudster seer? Having a laugh at our expense?” His thumb grazed her thigh daringly just under the hem of her soft sweater dress. He could have slid his hand up and felt her ass if he wanted to. “Will you be my wife? Will I finally have the complete Cerridwen set?” He was looking up at her cynically as if he didn’t expect her to say anything truthful or anything he wanted to hear. He looked at her as if he was toying with her.
“Do you have some better explanation for your sisters bizarre theories?”
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 01-30-2019
For some reason she had walked around his desk to stand next to him. As if removing the informal space of the desk between them would do anything to keep her out of trouble. Julianna was in trouble as soon as Darcias had appeared on Owen's doorstep. Julianna knew it was because he wanted more from her. The problem was he wouldn't ask for it. Darcias' visit had given him a (flawed) glimpse into her life and now he was grumpy that she had taken it away. She stood perfectly still at his side, but when grey eyes finally snapped in her direction she felt suddenly colder. When Owen prefaced his point with a narrative, Julianna knew he was exceptionally annoyed. Her brow furrowed as he spoke. To signal her own annoyance, but she didn't interrupt him. Julianna's ears twitched and her head turned to follow the trail of the pen as it skittered over the files she had brought home earlier. She didn't know why she looked at it, but she heard him lean forward, ears rotating towards him, but she didn't see what he was doing, didn't know what was happening until his hands were on her. Her sights whipped back to him, her lips part as if she would protest, but the sound was stuck in her throat. Her heels clicked on the wood of his office, as she was pulled closer to him.
Julianna was frowning at him now. Looking down the line of her own body to the dubious expression he faced her with. She inhaled sharply, as his hands found the strip of skin between the hem of her sweater and the tops of her boots. Julianna looked away from him, again. They hadn't been this close since Sophia had moved in. Since she had been detained. Since he'd held her on the couch and almost...
He was asking her a question. His touching her was distracting.
She wanted to touch him, too.
It was only fair, right? If he was going to be mad at her regardless...
She placed her palm against his cheek, cupping the side of his face, fingers splayed towards his ear. Her thumb brushed the hollow beneath his eye, before her hand smoothed upwards and into his hair. She sighed heavily as she fingered the hairs at the nape of his neck. Julianna considered lying to him, but she didn't see the point. Maybe he just wouldn't believe the truth and then he could just keep being mad at her anyway.
"Magic has consequences," Julianna began softly, something she would come to say very often. She paused and shrugged. "Darcias wanted to see the future, and now she does. The only problem is she sees everything all at once. Every future, every... possibility. Constantly, and she can't parse it. So, perhaps, there's a future where you have all the Cerridwen paintings." Her hand returned to his face. "Perhaps, in some future I am even your wife." She held his face in both hands now. "The possibilities are endless. And unknowable. You shouldn't bother too much with the things Darcias says."
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - saronym - 02-02-2019
That was - this was definitely not the reaction he expected. Her hand smelled like vanilla and honey and a silky soft thumb caressed his cheek. He wanted to turn his face and kiss her wrist. Okay, so, she had the upper hand. And he was an error 404 screen resisting the urge to lean into her fingers stroking the hair at the back of his neck. Where did she get off touching him like that? His hand tightened on her thigh. It was involuntary.
Magic has consequences. She couldn't have said anything that resonated with him more than that. He couldn't stand magic. But then she was saying things that made him frown. Made a knot twist tight inside his stomach.
He placed his hand over one of hers that cupped his cheek. “I would rather put my efforts into meritocratic outcomes I can control anyhow, like my promotion. I’d rather not bet on fickle hearts or cagey collectors.” He ran his thumb over the back of his hand even as he accused her of being fickle. He traced his fingers down her wrist and forearm to her elbow.
“Besides, how would that even work? A queen marrying some foreign commoner, a high ranking intelligence officer working for a corporate military organization with rather frigid ties to her own monarchy.” He stroked her arm and tsked. “Seeds for rebellion if you ask me.”
“Speaking of my promotion…” He pushed her hand away and took up the report he had partly torn to give Darcias his phone number. He held it between thumb and forefinger as if it were dirty. “Seems like your presentation went well, hut your written report has been...damaged. Please prepare a new one.”
RE: Strictly Business [Closed] - megs - 02-03-2019
Drusilla knew that she was winning. If this was some sort of game that could be one. She could see the confusion clouding his features. She wondered if he was feeling now, what she had felt earlier when Darcias has called her his wife. A little bit of pain. Owen's hand were still on her. His grip tightened on her thigh and her heart was pounding, rapid-fire, in her ears. He didn't seem pleased with her answer. Which is what she expected. Drusilla would have snatched her hand away from his face when he implied that she was fickle, had he not been holding it with one of his own. His touch left a path of fire over her arm, goosebumps prickling over her skin.
How would that work? Her ears pinned backwards, but she didn't answer. She had an answer of course. It was a thought that she had entertained but never shared with anyone. "It's impossible to know what she was seeing," Drusilla countered. "Maybe, there's a version where I'm not a queen. Or there's a reality where things like that don't matter."
A reality like this one.
Her lips pressed into a thin, angry line as he carried on and this time she would have pulled her arm away from him, but he pushed it away. Like she was unbearable. Drusilla felt cold again, but this lack of warmth was different than before. Her tail bristled as her torn report appeared. It flicked to and fro behind her head. Her ears stood at attention. She took the ravaged page in both hands, eyes dropping to the crooked edge.
Drusilla's gaze lifted above the page where she could still see him looking up at her. Her frown deepened, she was close to glaring at him, but her features were all at once smooth again. Neutral. Her mask back in place.
She wouldn't let it crack again.
"Yes, of course, sir."