03-09-2014, 07:25 AM
While Tony stepped aside to allow the Indian woman passage, Claire held her ground. She was there first, and there were no signs for rich bitch right-aways. The chick could walk around her. She matched the woman's glare with a grin that warmed considerably when it met swiveled around to meet Tony.
At first glance, Claire was dumbfounded by the interior of Jaxen's place. It looked like something from a magazine. Strikingly, much of what she saw reminded her of Tony's home, which was also quite a cocoon of luxury.
The shoes in the corner drew her eye for another reason, though. They were gorgeous! And the brand.. she couldn't help herself but walk over to peek inside. Yes, just what she thought. She'd only ever seen something like these behind window displays.
The scent of coffee lingered, and as the minutes rolled on, Claire could imagine herself drinking a cup. She was tempted to explore the apartment since they were left to their own wanderings, but in the end was drawn to the windows rather than venture off in search of a coffeepot.
The view was beautiful. The building's height was mountainous, but more than the stretch of the horizon, she studied the dots of cars and people far below. She felt like she was on top of the world, peering down at the mere mortals that would never know such an Olympian view. It was sobering in a way. The world was so large, and any one person filled but a speck of space. And time.
Bag and coat dropped aside, she ended up waiting in a seat across from the fire, watching the flames wave on, oblivious to their confinement. More symbolism.
The sound of footsteps pulled her own feet off the cushion she'd propped them upon. She was in no hurry to stand to greet Jaxen, but the handshake for Tony suggested he might want one for her.
Most definitely this was the man that belonged to the purple suede loafers in the corner. His style screamed a preference for the edge of what was normal, and the metal studs piercing Claire's shirt warmed with the heat that flushed her skin beneath. She was hardly the kind of girl to doodle his name on her notebook, but when he kissed her hand, she almost laughed out loud. Perhaps it was a European thing to do, or a rich guy thing to do, but the gesture was almost as ridiculous as if they'd offered to kiss cheek to cheek. The brief spell was broken, and Claire remembered who and what she was.
She retook her seat, clearly more comfortable to endure Jaxen's intensity. Besides, it was him that should be drooling over her. Claire was fabulous, after all. In all the ways that were completely opposite from the Indian broad.
His question prompted her to glance at Tony. She didn't need his permission, but he knew Jaxen better than she. There were no answers to be found, so Claire shrugged and rummaged through her bag briefly. From it, she retrieved a preserved chicken foot and a nub of chalk, and placed both before Jaxen.
"I'd show you, but I'll need some of your blood."
Her smile twisted with morbid fascination. She had a serious feeling he would not take her up on the offer. Jaxen wasn't the only one that could be playful.
At first glance, Claire was dumbfounded by the interior of Jaxen's place. It looked like something from a magazine. Strikingly, much of what she saw reminded her of Tony's home, which was also quite a cocoon of luxury.
The shoes in the corner drew her eye for another reason, though. They were gorgeous! And the brand.. she couldn't help herself but walk over to peek inside. Yes, just what she thought. She'd only ever seen something like these behind window displays.
The scent of coffee lingered, and as the minutes rolled on, Claire could imagine herself drinking a cup. She was tempted to explore the apartment since they were left to their own wanderings, but in the end was drawn to the windows rather than venture off in search of a coffeepot.
The view was beautiful. The building's height was mountainous, but more than the stretch of the horizon, she studied the dots of cars and people far below. She felt like she was on top of the world, peering down at the mere mortals that would never know such an Olympian view. It was sobering in a way. The world was so large, and any one person filled but a speck of space. And time.
Bag and coat dropped aside, she ended up waiting in a seat across from the fire, watching the flames wave on, oblivious to their confinement. More symbolism.
The sound of footsteps pulled her own feet off the cushion she'd propped them upon. She was in no hurry to stand to greet Jaxen, but the handshake for Tony suggested he might want one for her.
Most definitely this was the man that belonged to the purple suede loafers in the corner. His style screamed a preference for the edge of what was normal, and the metal studs piercing Claire's shirt warmed with the heat that flushed her skin beneath. She was hardly the kind of girl to doodle his name on her notebook, but when he kissed her hand, she almost laughed out loud. Perhaps it was a European thing to do, or a rich guy thing to do, but the gesture was almost as ridiculous as if they'd offered to kiss cheek to cheek. The brief spell was broken, and Claire remembered who and what she was.
She retook her seat, clearly more comfortable to endure Jaxen's intensity. Besides, it was him that should be drooling over her. Claire was fabulous, after all. In all the ways that were completely opposite from the Indian broad.
His question prompted her to glance at Tony. She didn't need his permission, but he knew Jaxen better than she. There were no answers to be found, so Claire shrugged and rummaged through her bag briefly. From it, she retrieved a preserved chicken foot and a nub of chalk, and placed both before Jaxen.
"I'd show you, but I'll need some of your blood."
Her smile twisted with morbid fascination. She had a serious feeling he would not take her up on the offer. Jaxen wasn't the only one that could be playful.