#(we're kidding tho there are far less straps)

[fatedevour]

♢  —    @bogachs​​​​​​​​​​​​ asked:  "you're looking quite handsome today, docteur."

love, rosie sentences:

   Pantalone’s voice is like PHENOL, sickeningly sweet and tarry in Dottore’s ear. Unfortunately, for Pantalone, it has never been that siren-song that’s ever been what has caught the doctor’s attention. No matter how he might purr or smile or lure in the oblivious folks, those same men and women who can be ENCHANTED by a flash of gold or sparkle of a jewel, it fell flat to the man who chased after knowledge to feast on like unending vortex of charybdis at the expense of ALL ELSE. No. Fine silks, perfect accents, graceful poise? It meant nothing. Nothing but a needless display of pointlessness. But a snake’s venom is useless to the crushing power of the jaguar’s jaws. They were simple DIFFERENT and therefore INCOMPARABLE. Although he could INDULGE in sipping the sweet venom, he could also choose to REJECT it and hear the words as they were. Such was the latter how he treated the present moment.

   Dottore arches a brow as he watches Pantalone lift a hand to fix some ruffle of the NEW outfit that the doctor wore. He HADN’T been expecting a visit from the banker, rather certain that Pantalone was undoubtedly busy pouring over maps and numbers and trade information as usual - or preparing for the upcoming tax season. Although the HISS of his door opening had given a rather solid guess to who his visitor was given how FEW people would visit, let alone dare step in without announcement, it’d still been a vague surprise that he hid behind a clinical expression.

   “  You must rather LIKE this outfit to give me such a compliment unprompted.  “  Dottore remarks, lifting a hand up to catch Pantalone’s ELEGANT wrist before he can retract it to safety.  “  I’m glad you approve however. You are the FIRST to see it. Besides its creator of course.  “ With that hold on him, he gives a gentle but firm tug to draw Pantalone closer as he leans back against his empty desk. He watches how the dim light flickers over ink and moonlight hair, watches the corners of his eyes and lips for the subtle changes while his free hand rests against his hip.  “  So what is it you’re after, NIGHTSHADE? You rarely visit for NO reason of some kind.  “  He tease with what is far from a TYPICAL nickname, yet one nonetheless and no less fond in the UNDENIABLY contained traces of typical Dottore-esque aesthetics to it.  “  I have a meeting with Her Majesty and Pierro in a bit.  “  He murmurs UNPROMPTED, rough lips so close they could brush across the softness of Pantalone’s before he leans away slightly, curious to see if the banker’s GREED would drive him to chase the temptation of a kiss.

   It is true. He does have that meeting, but there was no RUSH in his movements, showcasing the fact that it was NOT  a case of last minute decision for him to change from a DISSECTION standard coat to the elegance of this new outfit. There was still SOME time to be had and he would selfishly indulge that in the company of Pantalone.