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disintegratiive:
“i’m ––” not fine, obviously not fine, but she can’t think of anything else to say, either. she’s too stunned by it, and this, and all she can think of is elliot, and who might’ve done this, and what’s going to happen to him if they don’t find him again. she looks to roman, lost again, though he’s no more likely to have a solution than she is. (he’s looked after them for a long time, she thinks, but it’s always been relatively simple. he trails after them at events, he stands off to the side while she does interviews, he checks the perimeter of the house at night before they go to sleep. he’s –– something like a friend, at least to her, which is maybe why she looks at him lik she does, now. he usually has the answers. she wishes he did this time.) “we need to ––”
she hardly notices shilah, or the hum of conversation bubbling around them. there will be newspaper articles, and television coverage, and the sort of attention she does not want to have. something ugly and aching constricts in her chest.
“we have to go. we have to find him.”
they took her brother. probably for money, hopefully not for something worse, but he knew that everything that happened down to this point was a time crunch. the longer they waited, the more the people holding them would get agitated. maybe this was a first time abduction or maybe this was one of many -- he needed to figure it out.
he gets whatever scent he can off the ground to note it to his memory. there wasn’t any to follow; the car smelled like all cars, and not even he could run as fast as that.
“ they’ll contact you once they feel like they’ve gotten to a safe place. “ he says, crouching down on the ground. “ they’ll want whatever money you have. “
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disintegratiive:
the change is so abrupt that, for a moment, she’s sure she’s misheard him. maybe this hadn’t been going well, but it was a break from the norm, and she’d been enjoying it. it doesn’t seem as though that’s the case for him, though, smile or not.
she covers it well –– a smile, easy and careless, and a shrug of her shoulders. “absolutely,” she could find elliot and go; they’ve been here long enough, anyway. “see you around.”
he gives her a nod, moves across the crowd like he isn’t in a hurry. sets his glass on a waiter’s empty tray walking by and the minute he’s out away from the crowd, he breaks into a jog, rounding the corner to where he’s heard the noise and broken glass.
and enter the man -- young man -- he had made eye contact with earlier, who had been watching him like a hawk. there’s the glass, broken -- a vase that probably wasn’t worth too much if it had been sitting out in the open like that -- shards of it stuck in the young man’s hair, blood seeping out. and the body, laying on the floor. still alive, but --
the scream that echoes across the hall. they meet eyes once more before he can see panic spread in his face -- josephine -- he says before he’s gone again, shilah following behind.
#always dramatic#i figured elliot and her would be leaving and maybe someone#would snatch elliot#v; A NOT SO CASUAL AFFAIR.#ruinaa
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JOSEPHINE.
she looks him up and down, smile growing, and stands her ground even as he crowds into her space. another sip of her drink, and maybe she had been wrong; the fact that he’s laughed instead of growing irritated is promise enough. (low standards, maybe, and even lower expectations, but. that’s not something she’s going to share with him.)
“i’ve heard that before.” still, she’s not going to let him off that easily. “i guess you’ll have to prove me wrong.”
he turns back to the painting and looks at it for a moment, edging closer to her. “ i guess i will -- “ there’s a sharp, sudden noise in his ear, and he stops speaking. the sound of breaking glass, and more muffled noises; nothing that sounded good. but nothing she or the rest of the guests could hear on their own.
giving her his best smile, “ would you excuse me for a moment? “
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JOSEPHINE.
she does bristle, but she’s careful not to let it show; if he wants to get a rise out of her, then she’s not going to give in to him so easily. besides, he reminds her too much of the other men she’s often spoken to –– a little too cocky for his own good, too used to making comments like this and having them taken entirely differently.
“i don’t know,” she tilts her head, like she’s considering, “i guess it does seem like you’d have a little bit of trouble keeping up with me.”
she’s quick to fire back, and it makes him laugh, bright and warm. “ oh, miss lewis. “ he steps closer to her, “ you might not know a thing about me, but i can promise you that i would have absolutely have no trouble keeping up with you. “
out of the corner of his eye, he sees a younger man in a suit look at him with warning in his expression. he ignores it.
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JOSEPHINE.
“i bet you say that to all the pretty girls you meet at these things.” they don’t know each other well enough for that, after all. she’s seen him before, once or twice, but that doesn’t mean much; for a city so large, the crowds she finds herself a part of are remarkably small. “it’s ––”
the flash of a camera distracts her, for a moment, and she wonders where roman might’ve wandered off to. “–– would make for an interesting story, huh? something for the tabloids to fall all over themselves writing.”
“ i don’t. “ his lips twitch upwards into a bit of a smirk. “ besides, you’re a little too young for me, don’t you think? “ he gives her another wink, just for the hell of it. ( he can tell she’s probably the type to get angry at that comment, but he likes a little bit of drama when talking to someone new. )
#maybe i will keep him odler#older#v; A NOT SO CASUAL AFFAIR.#disintegratiive#dark me louder: let elliot get kidnapped
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JOSEPHINE.
“don’t make it sound like such a drag.” they get repetitive, of course. if you’ve been to one of these, you’ve been to them all. she knows that, but she does enjoy them; it’s something different, at least, compared to her day-to-day. (the fact that he knows her name right away doesn’t surprise her, either. she’s been in enough magazine articles, mentioned in enough newspapers. it doesn’t bother her as much as it used to.) “i think they’re beautiful. but you probably don’t need me to tell you that.”
“ i don’t, but i like hearing you talk. “ he gives her a wink. there’s a bright flash of a photographer, and as he turns around, the photographer is already getting ushered somewhere by security. “ -- i’m sure that was for you. a pretty woman by a pretty painting talking to a mysterious man. “
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JOSEPHINE.
she’s not surprised when he approaches her –– people usually do at these things at one point or another, and she’d noticed him long before he decided to cross the room toward her. in her peripheral, she can see elliot, lingering off to the side like he almost always does when he’s ready to leave and waiting for her to be ready, too.
“it’s hanging.” she takes a sip of her drink and studies him over the rim of her glass. “you seem like you’re having fun, though.”
he shrugs, one shoulder thrown up and his head tipped towards it in a more dramatic gesture. “ you drink, you look at pretty things, and that’s what you do. “ he glances at the painting. “ what do you think of the pretty things here, miss lewis? “
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@disintegratiive //
she’s young, he can tell, old enough that he could come talk to her. he knew who she was; her head held high and a fight in her eyes. everything that he wanted to figure out. “ so. “ he tips a drink at her. “ how’s it hangin? “
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He’s quick to pull away, hands off of her, and half wondering if he did something wrong. But the way she looks at him makes him know it’s not about that; this is about what’s happened with Jack.
“Jo — “ there’s a million things he wants to tell her, but now wasn’t the right time. “ hey. Why don’t I take you home? And we can go out again when you feel more up to it.” He itches to reach out for her, but as always, he holds himself back.
beastofxburden:
He can’t help but smooth his hands up and down her side, feeling how she’s pressed against him and how her clothes press against her. “I’ve got a lot of stamina.” And his eyes flash green in the light, like the beast in him knows something, knows her, as it did.
When the song rolls again he’s the one to move first against her, guiding her body along with the rhythm and along with him. They fit just as well together as they did fifty years ago, and it makes his heart race.
she should be more conscious of the way he’s touching her, but it feels good. natural. another familiar thing, somehow, and she catches that flicker in his eyes, how they go green to brown in a way that makes her smile ease and soften, just for him.
he guides her along and she goes, easy, hips moving with the beat, brushing against his. they move together easily, too easily, and there’s a flicker in the back of her mind, a pinprick of memory –– the pair of them like this, but not here, not now, dancing to a different kind of song in a different kind of place, and shilah with that same look on his face, and ––
she stops, shakes her head, hands still settled against shilah’s chest. “–– sorry.”
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He’s surprised when she turns around, but surprise changes into a different mood when she pushes back against him and they start dancing again. He feels — like he’s taking advantage of this, again, but it’s so easy to forget that it’s not just him and her and nothing else.
Hands on her hips, he lets her move as she pleases, pulling her back every now and then a little harder then he needed to. At one point, he gets a mouthful of her blonde wild hair, and he dips his head into her neck and laughs.
beastofxburden:
He can’t help but smooth his hands up and down her side, feeling how she’s pressed against him and how her clothes press against her. “I’ve got a lot of stamina.” And his eyes flash green in the light, like the beast in him knows something, knows her, as it did.
When the song rolls again he’s the one to move first against her, guiding her body along with the rhythm and along with him. They fit just as well together as they did fifty years ago, and it makes his heart race.
she should be more conscious of the way he’s touching her, but it feels good. natural. another familiar thing, somehow, and she catches that flicker in his eyes, how they go green to brown in a way that makes her smile ease and soften, just for him.
he guides her along and she goes, easy, hips moving with the beat, brushing against his. they move together easily, too easily, and there’s a flicker in the back of her mind, a pinprick of memory –– the pair of them like this, but not here, not now, dancing to a different kind of song in a different kind of place, and shilah with that same look on his face, and ––
she stops, shakes her head, hands still settled against shilah’s chest. “–– sorry.”
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because they’re in a situation where maybe it’s okay, and maybe he can, he leans forward and presses a butterfly kiss to her forehead. “ just let me know if you’re not, and we’ll stop. “ he says, giving her a stern look that melts into something softer. “ but we can keep dancing. “
beastofxburden:
He can’t help but smooth his hands up and down her side, feeling how she’s pressed against him and how her clothes press against her. “I’ve got a lot of stamina.” And his eyes flash green in the light, like the beast in him knows something, knows her, as it did.
When the song rolls again he’s the one to move first against her, guiding her body along with the rhythm and along with him. They fit just as well together as they did fifty years ago, and it makes his heart race.
she should be more conscious of the way he’s touching her, but it feels good. natural. another familiar thing, somehow, and she catches that flicker in his eyes, how they go green to brown in a way that makes her smile ease and soften, just for him.
he guides her along and she goes, easy, hips moving with the beat, brushing against his. they move together easily, too easily, and there’s a flicker in the back of her mind, a pinprick of memory –– the pair of them like this, but not here, not now, dancing to a different kind of song in a different kind of place, and shilah with that same look on his face, and ––
she stops, shakes her head, hands still settled against shilah’s chest. “–– sorry.”
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he sees the way that she zones out for a moment, and he holds her tighter, more secure. maybe she was too drunk, too many drinks, maybe she was thinking about jack and making herself upset as she probably would be if she hadn’t been here -- “ it’s okay. “ gently, he places a hand on her cheek. “ do we need to stop? are you feeling okay? “
beastofxburden:
He can’t help but smooth his hands up and down her side, feeling how she’s pressed against him and how her clothes press against her. “I’ve got a lot of stamina.” And his eyes flash green in the light, like the beast in him knows something, knows her, as it did.
When the song rolls again he’s the one to move first against her, guiding her body along with the rhythm and along with him. They fit just as well together as they did fifty years ago, and it makes his heart race.
she should be more conscious of the way he’s touching her, but it feels good. natural. another familiar thing, somehow, and she catches that flicker in his eyes, how they go green to brown in a way that makes her smile ease and soften, just for him.
he guides her along and she goes, easy, hips moving with the beat, brushing against his. they move together easily, too easily, and there’s a flicker in the back of her mind, a pinprick of memory –– the pair of them like this, but not here, not now, dancing to a different kind of song in a different kind of place, and shilah with that same look on his face, and ––
she stops, shakes her head, hands still settled against shilah’s chest. “–– sorry.”
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He can’t help but smooth his hands up and down her side, feeling how she’s pressed against him and how her clothes press against her. “I’ve got a lot of stamina.” And his eyes flash green in the light, like the beast in him knows something, knows her, as it did.
When the song rolls again he’s the one to move first against her, guiding her body along with the rhythm and along with him. They fit just as well together as they did fifty years ago, and it makes his heart race.
disintegratiive:
“i might.” this time, she’s the one to lean closer to him, bracing a hand against his knee so that she doesn’t lose her balance. he’s –– good looking. very much so. it’s the last thing she should be thinking of, especially now, but it’s not as though the thought has never crossed her mind. she’s just been better about hiding the fact. “you never know.”
he leans closer to her still, their faces close. he’s toeing a line that he shouldn’t toe and – he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel damn good. “ – what other talents do you have, miss josephine? “
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Following after her, they move away from the bar over to the dance floor. It’s not really a spot he would have picked for dancing, but at this point, he didn’t care. It was just an excuse to be close to her.
Reaching out to put his hands on her waist, waiting for a new song to start up, he pulls her closer. “Show me how good you are.” He says with a wink.
disintegratiive:
“i might.” this time, she’s the one to lean closer to him, bracing a hand against his knee so that she doesn’t lose her balance. he’s –– good looking. very much so. it’s the last thing she should be thinking of, especially now, but it’s not as though the thought has never crossed her mind. she’s just been better about hiding the fact. “you never know.”
he leans closer to her still, their faces close. he’s toeing a line that he shouldn’t toe and – he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel damn good. “ – what other talents do you have, miss josephine? “
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He could kiss her now, they were so close. He could say it was accident. He could say anything right now if he thought she wanted to hear it. “A mechanical bull?” He says, eyebrows raised high. “That is an odd talent. Means you have good balance. That you can handle being on top of — things.”
disintegratiive:
“i might.” this time, she’s the one to lean closer to him, bracing a hand against his knee so that she doesn’t lose her balance. he’s –– good looking. very much so. it’s the last thing she should be thinking of, especially now, but it’s not as though the thought has never crossed her mind. she’s just been better about hiding the fact. “you never know.”
he leans closer to her still, their faces close. he’s toeing a line that he shouldn’t toe and – he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel damn good. “ – what other talents do you have, miss josephine? “
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“Because.” He drawls out with her. At the hand on his knee, he smooths a thumb over her knuckles, the touch tender.
Moving to reach for one of the cherry stems, he grins at her. “I’ll show you one of mine if you show me one of yours. “ With that, he pops the cherry stem in his mouth and takes it out again. It’s tied in a perfect not.
disintegratiive:
“i might.” this time, she’s the one to lean closer to him, bracing a hand against his knee so that she doesn’t lose her balance. he’s –– good looking. very much so. it’s the last thing she should be thinking of, especially now, but it’s not as though the thought has never crossed her mind. she’s just been better about hiding the fact. “you never know.”
he leans closer to her still, their faces close. he’s toeing a line that he shouldn’t toe and – he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel damn good. “ – what other talents do you have, miss josephine? “
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He’s tempted to — and this time, he does give into it. A reach to her hair and he tugs so that she turns her neck slightly. “Why don’t you show me one now?” He asks, voice low so that only she can hear him.
disintegratiive:
“i might.” this time, she’s the one to lean closer to him, bracing a hand against his knee so that she doesn’t lose her balance. he’s –– good looking. very much so. it’s the last thing she should be thinking of, especially now, but it’s not as though the thought has never crossed her mind. she’s just been better about hiding the fact. “you never know.”
he leans closer to her still, their faces close. he’s toeing a line that he shouldn’t toe and – he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel damn good. “ – what other talents do you have, miss josephine? “
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