07-24-2018, 03:35 PM
Her lips flickered a smile, tickled by his morbid humour and the flat way he offered it. Her dry reply was equally serious. Such bleak reminisces, but not ones she chose to pull away from, nor the connections such horrors ultimately wrought. "Beware the wrathful of vengeance of children armed with machetes. We should really write these down."
Her hands drifted from their purchase, found a careful compromise where they couldn't be tempted by soft black cloth or the body within. She didn't crave distance, but it was probably necessary. Restraint was more difficult than it ought to be.
His next words struck a wary cord. Lust she knew how to deal with; lust she understood. But he smoothed her hair with too much affection, too much tenderness. And he looked too deeply; deep enough she began to wonder what it was he saw. She wasn't built of girlish fantasies; it was not an idealist's heart beating shallow in her chest, and the flutter spread from that touch was dangerous. Her instinct was to shy away from it. Brush it off. It was only a kiss after all, an ephemeral captivation. Just one she couldn't break away from, nor discovered she truly wanted to.
In those seconds she weathered the uncertain path of her own emotions; for once let it wash over her and leave her standing, curious, in its wake. By now Jay's expression held an introspection she would not interrupt, and truthfully she was glad of the moment to collect herself. Her gaze held him steady until he resurfaced, rising awkwardly from the intimate moment. He scrubbed his hair, half tripped over his own tongue. Natalie laughed. "Be the perfect gentleman, I'm sure,"
she finished for him. Amusement twinkled like morning frost in her pale eyes. Because it had been her kiss that first demanded more, and her fingers that plucked at the knot apt to unravel them both. The tease of her expression writ no apology for it either.
He finally stepped back, easing rumpled clothing back into respectable shape with a snap of black sleeves. He knew how the shadows of the uniform accentuated him; the telltale smirk said as much. But she indulged him anyway, pale gaze making an open and appreciative roam of the various shades of dark; the textures and stitching, the flashes of undulating silver. That heartbreak grin.
Compliments were hard won treasures from her lips, though they curled slyly at the invitation. "Jay."
The way she said it captured the softness of that now fading heat, like silk on skin. "Don't ask me questions like that if you want me to let you out of this room any time soon."
He beckoned with the crook of an arm, unperturbed. She hadn't taken it before simply because of how much she'd wanted to. Tight buttoned control warned her away from peering over the sort of height that smashed hearts on impact. Still did, really. She knew her limits. But the past few moments swept away caution on wind-tossed waves. So when her reaction was not immediate, it was no longer because she contemplated self-preservation. Tease lit the apparent indecision, playful rather than cruel. But it was really no decision at all; or if it ever was, it had been cemented in time long before now.
Her arm laid pale against his, the pearlescent embroidery of her sleeve like snow on dark fields.
"I wasn't joking about enemies earlier, you know. I don't know half the people in there, but they all have long memories. Even for half-buried scandals. You'd be hard pressed to pick worse company."
She was deaf to the scavenger peck of rumour by now, but he was fresh meat to the carnage; a relative unknown elevated to Nikolai Brandon's side. They'd tear apart his past given half a chance, and cannibalise what they found to utilise for gain. Natalie's name was a shield and gleaming armour, but beneath that she was still a terrorist's daughter. The dirty entrails of that cold fact would be pressed into service if the predator's sniffed advantage in it, whether there was truth in the leverage they fabricated or not.
She glanced up at him, doubting he'd take any of that seriously. But the warning was light anyway; she was confidant enough she could navigate this battlefield.
Her foot stung beneath her weight, but not enough to encourage a flicker of it on her expression as they began to make their way back. It didn't seem Brandon had gotten far ahead of them. Grouped in the shadows of the grand walkway he stood in conversation with another man, Evelyn still at his side. She looked uncomfortable, her arms folded, and for that Natalie almost paused. The man to whom Brandon spoke had a thick web of scars over his face; someone important if he were allowed to wander beyond the bounds of the party. Perhaps someone dangerous to have earned those markings. But they passed the trio without incident, until they stepped back over the threshold into another world.
If Brandon's absence from his own fundraiser was noted by his guests, it was not evident. The merriment continued, the music brisk and dancers breathless, the drink still flowing thick amidst laughter and preening. Her gaze washed against it dully, though she did catch the incidental stare of one man in particular. Walls built a fortress; by now, Natalie's expression retreated to its absent stillness. Did he see a woman keeping her promise? Or battle lines? Her attention swept away without an answer.
"Do you see Jensen?"
Her hands drifted from their purchase, found a careful compromise where they couldn't be tempted by soft black cloth or the body within. She didn't crave distance, but it was probably necessary. Restraint was more difficult than it ought to be.
His next words struck a wary cord. Lust she knew how to deal with; lust she understood. But he smoothed her hair with too much affection, too much tenderness. And he looked too deeply; deep enough she began to wonder what it was he saw. She wasn't built of girlish fantasies; it was not an idealist's heart beating shallow in her chest, and the flutter spread from that touch was dangerous. Her instinct was to shy away from it. Brush it off. It was only a kiss after all, an ephemeral captivation. Just one she couldn't break away from, nor discovered she truly wanted to.
In those seconds she weathered the uncertain path of her own emotions; for once let it wash over her and leave her standing, curious, in its wake. By now Jay's expression held an introspection she would not interrupt, and truthfully she was glad of the moment to collect herself. Her gaze held him steady until he resurfaced, rising awkwardly from the intimate moment. He scrubbed his hair, half tripped over his own tongue. Natalie laughed. "Be the perfect gentleman, I'm sure,"
she finished for him. Amusement twinkled like morning frost in her pale eyes. Because it had been her kiss that first demanded more, and her fingers that plucked at the knot apt to unravel them both. The tease of her expression writ no apology for it either.
He finally stepped back, easing rumpled clothing back into respectable shape with a snap of black sleeves. He knew how the shadows of the uniform accentuated him; the telltale smirk said as much. But she indulged him anyway, pale gaze making an open and appreciative roam of the various shades of dark; the textures and stitching, the flashes of undulating silver. That heartbreak grin.
Compliments were hard won treasures from her lips, though they curled slyly at the invitation. "Jay."
The way she said it captured the softness of that now fading heat, like silk on skin. "Don't ask me questions like that if you want me to let you out of this room any time soon."
He beckoned with the crook of an arm, unperturbed. She hadn't taken it before simply because of how much she'd wanted to. Tight buttoned control warned her away from peering over the sort of height that smashed hearts on impact. Still did, really. She knew her limits. But the past few moments swept away caution on wind-tossed waves. So when her reaction was not immediate, it was no longer because she contemplated self-preservation. Tease lit the apparent indecision, playful rather than cruel. But it was really no decision at all; or if it ever was, it had been cemented in time long before now.
Her arm laid pale against his, the pearlescent embroidery of her sleeve like snow on dark fields.
"I wasn't joking about enemies earlier, you know. I don't know half the people in there, but they all have long memories. Even for half-buried scandals. You'd be hard pressed to pick worse company."
She was deaf to the scavenger peck of rumour by now, but he was fresh meat to the carnage; a relative unknown elevated to Nikolai Brandon's side. They'd tear apart his past given half a chance, and cannibalise what they found to utilise for gain. Natalie's name was a shield and gleaming armour, but beneath that she was still a terrorist's daughter. The dirty entrails of that cold fact would be pressed into service if the predator's sniffed advantage in it, whether there was truth in the leverage they fabricated or not.
She glanced up at him, doubting he'd take any of that seriously. But the warning was light anyway; she was confidant enough she could navigate this battlefield.
Her foot stung beneath her weight, but not enough to encourage a flicker of it on her expression as they began to make their way back. It didn't seem Brandon had gotten far ahead of them. Grouped in the shadows of the grand walkway he stood in conversation with another man, Evelyn still at his side. She looked uncomfortable, her arms folded, and for that Natalie almost paused. The man to whom Brandon spoke had a thick web of scars over his face; someone important if he were allowed to wander beyond the bounds of the party. Perhaps someone dangerous to have earned those markings. But they passed the trio without incident, until they stepped back over the threshold into another world.
If Brandon's absence from his own fundraiser was noted by his guests, it was not evident. The merriment continued, the music brisk and dancers breathless, the drink still flowing thick amidst laughter and preening. Her gaze washed against it dully, though she did catch the incidental stare of one man in particular. Walls built a fortress; by now, Natalie's expression retreated to its absent stillness. Did he see a woman keeping her promise? Or battle lines? Her attention swept away without an answer.
"Do you see Jensen?"