alaricfarrow - Tumblr blog

[alaricfarrow]

"A sixth sense." Now, it was a chuckle that carried his words, reserved as to not disrupt the quiet. "I can appreciate that." His smile lingered on in appreciation of this moment's lightheartedness. In recent times, those past weeks to be more precise, life had felt a little lighter, the burden on his shoulders a little less heavy and Alaric found it strange, yet appreciated how the tides had changed - at least for the time being. "I'm looking for something a little out of my comfort zone. Something one might read on a vacation in the Caribbean." A beat. "Not that I have any plans on going on a vacation in the Caribbean." @waverly--erickson

Waverly nodded, adopting a faux nature of seriousness for a moment as she responded. "I can always sense a fellow bookworm. It's a heavy burden to bear." Upon finishing this statement, a mirth reflected in her blue eyes and she broke out into a quiet laugh, clearly indicating amusement at the joke she'd just spoken. Internalizing Alaric's question, the blonde glanced down at the book beside her "Oh, this? I mean I haven't really gotten far in, I only grabbed it a few moments ago. But what kind of things are you looking for? I'm happy to help find options."

[alaricfarrow]

In the brief time he had been acquainted with Evelyn, a certain understanding had built. A fondness for her appreciation of the arts, for literature and words. Her views on authors and stories and what made them compelling. There were few people he found it easy with to converse with, an exchange of words about words, that came with as much effortlessness and was met with an equal measure of genuine interest. He harbored an appreciation for their talks - those they had already shared, at the very least.

As she spoke, her accent strung around the syllables she uttered, he drank up her every word and pondered on their meaning. Let her opinion linger on inside his mind, while he constructed his own. Blue eyes peered ahead as they ventured through the streets of Kismet Harbor. "I do believe you have a point there." He spoke, his voice as soft as the breeze that blew through the street. It was uttered more to himself, rather than aimed at Evelyn, but Alaric nodded nevertheless. "Have you ever left a book unfinished, because you could not bear the amount of purple prose?" Now, she had awoken intrigue, and a small smile lingered on his lips when he'd posed the question.

"I do agree, however I am a firm believer that good writing isn't about the words per se. Of course a balance in the sentence structure and vocabulary is important, otherwise I, as a reader, find it hard to engage with a story for longer than three chapters, but to me, good writing is an author's ability to paint a reality that makes you feel and think and consider different perspectives. That challenges your views and morals. But overall, if one finds a particular author's writing good or bad is completely subjective." A beat. "That is not to say that some books are absolutely horrendous and should have never been published." @evelynrosewood

Evelyn was very fond of Alaric. She liked his temperament, how intelligent and collected he was, and how they could so easily and enthusiastically converse about books. Today was no exception, especially when he led with the excellent age-old question: What makes bad writing? It was something Evelyn had thought about ever since she attended university and her views on it always seemed to shift the more she read, wrote, and studied. It was also a good subject to ponder whilst out for a walk in the fresh air.

"I think that bad writing can be subjective. Someone who doesn't read books might think one particular one is good when someone like you or I- an academic or a completely devoted bibliophile- would say it was terrible. It's not obvious to them, but it is to us. I suppose someone could say that very simple sentences make bad writing and sentences filled with fancy words is great writing, yet I don't think that's true either; there has to be a balance and writing must be accessible if it has any chance of being good. Fancy prose is pretentious and there is nothing I dislike more than somebody who uses it just to come across as intelligent and superior, especially a more experienced writer who uses it to show off to a novice."

This was the opinion she had held for a while and she was confident in telling Alaric. There was nothing worse than writing that required more mental effort to decipher than it did to physically read. Sometimes Evelyn found herself doing the same, but luckily she recognised the issue and amended it before sending anything to her publisher, unlike a lot of writers out there.

"Do you agree?" She then asked, glancing up at Alaric. "Or is your theory different? I'd love to hear it."

[alaricfarrow]

To compare the times seemed a dire waste of time. See what had changed from back when seemed futile, for Alaric did not want to grow estranged from this moment. Did not want for his thoughts to meander off someplace, that wasn't right here with her. Her lips' softness was immeasurable and he found himself spellbound by the sweetness of her tender touch. Lost in the closeness of her body to his, her arms around his neck and the sound, a breathless moan, that further intensified the longing, slowly burning underneath his skin. He could feel it crawling to the place her hands sat by his neck with a blazing touch, his perception in stark contrast to the moment's unmatched tenderness and Alaric realized their closeness might not be close enough for very long. Long fingers were buried in dark tendrils and he pulled back from her. Just enough to catch his breath. Eyes fluttered open, searching for hers through the wanton haze that reigned the air surrounding them. "We shouldn't be doing this." His whisper was barely audible, almost indistinct and the solitary instant of his voice of reason's overpowering. A short-lived victory, as Alaric guided her closer once more, his lips soon locked with hers for another kiss. Impatience slowly turned palpable and it swallowed his mind and every doubtful thought it had harbored some moments prior whole. @joanxwagner

Joanna knew that with her words she was defying her own morals. With Jae, she had never once thought about looking at another man, much less exposing her dirty little secrets to them. There was a love there for Enzo, but it had slowly dwindled during the short period of their marriage, even if she kept up a good face for her in-laws and her own family. But she cared little for it at this point, for it wasn't the thought of her current spouse that kept her warm at night, but it was the thought of the man who currently took her breath away and sent her entire insides aflutter that did. A secret kept from even herself. Usually so confident and tall, she now found herself wobbling after him as he turned them about and towards the door, her bottom lip captured beneath her teeth as he closed it, giving them more privacy. She had fully neglected the fact it had still been ajar, only having eyes for him. Her head slightly tilted backwards at the placement of his hand, breath stuck in her throat from anticipation. It was as if their thoughts collided, though she had already given in a few seconds ago yet still uncertain what he thought with his deflective words -- ever the tease. The slightest of moans, easily mistaken for a breath curled up her throat when he finally kissed her. It was as tender as her teenage self remembered, making it feel all the more wholesome as she slid both hands upwards to his neck, pushing herself up in the process. @alaricfarrow

[alaricfarrow]

Thoughts were swerving, running in all directions aimlessly and all he knew was her. Her eyes, unique for so many more reasons than the different hues they held. The tenderness of her voice, sidling up to him like satin's immeasurably rich delicacy. How he could not shake the consciousness of her body's presence in such minimal proximity to his own. He felt the lightness of her motion, the way she subtly leaned into his touch and tension faded and ease slowly found him once more. It calmed his nerves, soothed the guilt, wearing down his conscience, even if nothing grave had taken place yet. It was a premature liability, owed to the person she belonged to and Alaric could only pray for fate to bestow mercy upon him, in spite of his sins. He swallowed, the lump in his throat a faint sensation he could barely acknowledge, as his thumb drew idle circles against her cheek's soft skin. And when Joanna spoke, with her hand against the nape of his neck, it all fell into place. It settled among the dwelling concerns, soon swallowed and drowned out by an overpowering longing. He took a step to turn them around. With the path leading into his office still ajar, it was another step taken backwards until Alaric, with his free hand, could reach for the door. A gentle push was all that was necessary to shield them from potentially prying eyes, his focus barely ever straying from her. His other hand finding its resting place against the nape of her neck, it was a beat that passed, contemplating whether this was the right call to make. The right lead to follow but it appeared to be too late for second thoughts. Fuck it. Bridging the distance, he leaned down, gently brought his lips to hers for a tender kiss. @joanxwagner

For the first time in a very long time, Joanna watched him, studied him. Sure, she always had her eye on him, observing him and listen to him, watch his cues, but she began to think that she had missed a lot of them. Standing in front of him now, she felt like she hadn't been paying attention at all, that she had been taking them for granted. Now, she saw her reflection in his adoring eyes. His body dangerously close and yet achingly far. That was, until she saw his hand raise from the corner of her eyes and yet she didn't move an inch. She would feel safe with him, always, and never believe he would touch with with malice or anger. It wasn't until she felt his hand against her cheek, now flushed from the thoughts roaming her mind, that she realised she missed him. Missed what they had when they dated, no matter how brief or how young they were. She leaned against his touch for a moment, wishing to be closer. Yes she was married. Was wearing the ring that attached her legally to her husband, but she hadn't seen him in almost three weeks for so many times already she had lost count. They were connected now only by a document easily ripped out and their daughter, who at this stage was more excited to see her preschool teacher than her own father, as much as that broke her heart. When Alaric spoke, she let out a breath, mixed with amusement. "Ric." She said, smoothing her hand back up to his neck. Determination resonated in her voice. "For once, I'd like to praise your name with you in the room." @alaricfarrow

[alaricfarrow]

It was a fleeting thought, gone the very moment Waverly had to come to have completely pulled herself from her seat's comfort. The dire nonnecessity of her hoisting herself into an upright position, despite the appreciation he harbored for the common courtesy. "You know I could never go longer than a week without a visit to a bookstore." Would she know, though? There was no second thought bestowed upon the revisiting of words that had been spoken. A smile remained steady on his lips and Alaric's eyes wandered, searching for the book that had claimed the woman's undivided attention before he had made his presence known. "What are you reading, currently? If I may ask." A beat. "I'm in need for some good recommendations." @waverly--erickson

As was not entirely uncommon, Waverly had gotten taken in by a new title almost instantly after walking into the book store. Trying not to be in the way, the blonde had perched in the reading nook closest to the front door to evaluate the couple volumes she'd pulled off the shelf. The bell on the door announced people coming and going several times but the art teacher didn't look up being too deep in thought on deciding which option to purchase. It wasn't until she heard her name that Waverly was pulled from her little world. "Alaric! Hello, good to see you." she welcomed warmly, putting aside her new discoveries to stand up. "Has the siren's song brought you back once more?" the blonde asked in a tone full of friendly teasing.

[alaricfarrow]

The atmosphere made his skin crawl. Alaric felt estranged from the sore sight of a familiar reality. Found himself catapulted into an alienness. It had been a roughly estimated time of two decades that had passed since the end of a teenage love and the What If's had been shoved into the gloomy recesses of his mind. Right there, where he could no longer trace their impactful obtrusiveness. Only a fool, blinded by the glamor of the reputation he'd built for himself, would dare suspect that Alaric Farrow would not act upon his worst instincts. His heartbeat accelerated and nervousness fluttered in the pit of his stomach like a hummingbird's wings. Frantic, though it did not translate into the gradual movements of his body, feigned calmness. Merely the subtle tremble of his lips gave it away, as Joanna decreased the distance and he breathed in. Brought air to sit in his lungs and he thought back on all the times a fleeting image of her like this had crossed his mind. Split second reveries, dismissed with remembrance. She had a family. A husband. Her fingertips against his skin, somewhere near the collar of his shirt, left a burning trail and it was then, that he drew in another breath. His hand's ascend to find its resting place against her cheek in a feather-light whisper of a touch was less of an automates response, but something miscalculated and slow crawling guilt began nibbling away at his conscience. His touch was an inquiry and he could only hope to not have trespassed a boundary. "Hm, I see." he hummed softly, carrying on with something barely above a whisper. "Are you sure about that?" @joanxwagner

There was a shift. Something that had changed but she couldn't place her finger on it. Or maybe she couldn't tell herself the truth that was staring her right in the eye. When she turned and faced him there was something unfamiliar in his eyes. All she knew was how her chest tightened and her fingers lightly trembled. We should go to High Pulse. The words were right on the tip of her tongue, anything to dispel whatever this was. They were friends. Exes from their teenage life, but friends now. Uncle Ric to her children, her rock in tough times. He'd gotten her through her husband's death and he was there when her current husband failed to show. Mismatched eyes jolted upwards when he pushed himself away from his desk, taking a step closer. Somehow it suddenly felt unholy, yet everything was telling her to stay put rather than move away. So instead she moved forwards, her fingertips capturing the part of his blouse that she had just unbuttoned. "I lied." She whispered, her fingers tracing along the edge of his shirt and his skin. "I don't want you to be irresistible to everyone else." @alaricfarrow

[alaricfarrow]

Confusion lingered on and all Alaric could think of was how little he understood. How difficult he found it to sympathize, to comprehend. Too often did he swallow down the bitterness, the anger and irritation, the grief and the sadness that wallowed in a pool of memories he longed to hold no knowledge of, any longer.

Though what was comprehensible was the mild concern that was slowly unearthed and found its mirror in the furrow of thick brows. Blue eyes peered across the short distance and observed the woman, who he could not recall having met before.

Familial matters - he knew a thing or two about that. Clearing his throat, he lowered his gaze briefly. He nodded, feigning understanding, though truly he was at a loss for words. "Would you like to sit?" He gestured toward one of the chairs around the table he stood by. "Or would you like to catch some air? It tends to help me, when I'm overwhelmed." @kvtieansley

“Fuck!” Katie cursed as she hung up the phone, paying no mind to the stares she received (including an elderly Karen and a woman with three small children). In response, all she did was glare before storming off, looking like a madwoman as she prepared to head for her car. She was in no mood today.

But to get someone’s concern and not their judgment was a surprise, especially considering she’d just shouted an f-bomb in front of like ten women and children. Maybe not everyone was an asshole.

She heaved a sigh as she turned to the man, twitching slightly. “Not really, no,” she muttered, her hand shaking as she sipped from her cup. Why the fuck was she shaking so much?! “My dad keeps lecturing me about things he doesn’t understand. It’s insufferable.”

[alaricfarrow]

I'd let you. It was a shiver, a thrilling chill that crawled down his spine and the hairs on his arms bristled. There was a stark intensity, one that might have not been completely uncommon, though had never quite been this palpable between them. Now, his options of discarding the thoughts, accumulating into a heaping pile on the grounds of his mind and circling around a very particular focal point, were limited. Beyond his reach were the possibilities of noticing anything but her voice, the way it made him feel and for a moment, Alaric wondered if it was all nothing but a fragmented fiction. Something conjured up by his subconsciousness. Some wish that found its projection in the way her body moved and the way she made her words sound exquisite like white satin. He parted his lips as though in preparation to speak. But instead of turning his thought into a reality by uttering it and disrupting the tense quietness, that surrounded them like a fire, he closed his lips once more. Dumbfounded. For once, Alaric Farrow was at a loss for words and his fingers tensed around the desk's edge until his knuckles began to turn white. Joanna turned around and her gaze triggered waves of electricity, jolting through his veins and it was only then, that he realized he'd been holding his breath. So do I, were her words and Alaric couldn't help but wonder if they were still talking about the question: High Pulse or Latin Night. Wondered, whether these options had ever been their words' reference at all. He drew in a deep breath, finally and pushed himself from his desk and neared. One step closer. One step towards Joanna and nervousness rose. It was a wrongness, a bitter inkling he could not shake and yet ... "May I inquire what exactly that would be, Mrs. Wagner?" @joanxwagner

"I might take advantage of you if you keep on saying that." Joanna teased him, her lips curving into a crooked smile at his next chosen words. She always found a challenge in his voice, pushing her, making her strive for enlightenment, even if it meant she had to pull more out of that tough shell of his. Though, she liked to think that by now she was well able to crack it on her own, if she really wanted to. And she did, but then there was that little voice. "Bold of you to assume I don't already." She told him, giving him a light tap on his chest once undoing his button and then walking away. It was harder than it should be, her words tasting like venom in her mouth as she pretty much told him to flaunt himself before others, nearly held in place by the intense gaze of his eyes. Alaric Farrow was a strange and intriguing specimen. "Dealer's choice, is it?" She mused, stopping as she had been headed to the door but instead turned around to face him again. She watched him, trying to decipher the complex gaze that rested upon his features. And there it was. A strange warm tingle, small flutters, only spreading confusion in her head. It wasn't the first time, but still confusing. Her smile was gone now, fingers brushing against the fabric of her skirt. Her heel clicked on the ground as she took a small step closer again. "So do I." She told him, her voice softer, not meant to leave the confines of this room. @alaricfarrow

[alaricfarrow]

closed starter for: @nelxruiz location: sue's discount pharmacy

The beams of the golden sun pooled through the sheer glass, shone across the expanse of windowsills and Alaric Farrow found himself presented with a tough choice. Blue eyes scanned the small script on the bottle in his right hand. There was a frown carved into his features, his facial expression enough to imply a bold string of thoughts, whelming. An almost unnoticeable shift and his gaze wandered to the bottle in his left hand, scanning the fine words in thorough contemplation. He lingered, perfect stillness rendering his body completely unmoving as the (admittedly) unnecessary neon lights poured down from above and shrouded him in sterile illumination. He hummed, a sound bordering on something below the level of audibility and he followed it up with a defeated sigh. Lotion for sensitive skin it was. He glanced up, he noticed a woman, standing in front of the shelf he needed to get to, if he were to place the discarded option back in its place on the rack.

"Excuse me?" His voice was a gentle ring, a formal smile, a courtesy, sitting atop his lips and he gestured toward the display in front of her, to suggest his intention. "Would you mind? I only need to put this back."

[alaricfarrow]

Oliver Jackson-Cohen in The Haunting of Bly Manor (2020)

#just for science

[alaricfarrow]

It was a gradual shift in the serene atmosphere that reigned the quietness of his office. One he had not foreseen and yet, when their eyes met, her voice turned into something soft like silk and it unfurled a weakness. Alaric had always had a soft spot for Joanna, but whatever this was, was different and subtle traces of this altered state might have been caught over years upon years, had one simply looked. Such good friends. He swallowed down his remark, pursed his lips slightly as to dismiss the lopsided smirk that threatened to unfold and forced the overbearing thoughts that were circling his mind to retreat. "Always," he stated, though knew she would recognize the irony that laced each syllable he sounded, as it had always been honest humility that he wore like an armor. "You should know by now." His voice sounded lowly still, his tone bearing lightness that was rarely found. Reserved for few souls alone. And as her fingers busied themselves with the undoing of his shirt's top button, she was met with a brief furrow of brows, before he sounded a laugh, quiet, almost tranquil, as though he feared its sound alone would give away the thoughts that came swirling back in this instant. He clenched his jaw, his smile lingering in spite of its softening edges and he had to remind himself that this would not happen. He lingered, stood still and observed her and let silence grow and it itched underneath his skin. As she rounded his table, he turned around, leaning against the desk while tracing her movements with his blue-eyed gaze. "Dealer's choice," he spoke quietly, his voice hovering above a whisper. "Though I will admit, that I do have a preference." @joanxwagner

"You should see me in lace." Joanna mused, patting the leather seat of the chair before she stood. She nodded at his question, not taking it seriously if he'd actually be surprised about the revelation. Right along with her brother and her co-owner he was one of her favourite people. But she saw Haven almost every day, couldn't be loose and free around her baby brother, so truly, Alaric was her only option tonight. "Fishing for compliments?" She asked, yet knew she would flaunt him with all the compliments she could think of if he asked. Alaric Farrow was worthy of praise, of good words. Ever since they were young he'd been pure in her eyes. Alcohol use might make him a different person, but she still adored every bit of him. It's what made their friendship wholesome to her. "You couldn't, that's why I'm asking." Joanna uttered, her hand reaching to his chest where she unbuttoned the highest button of his shirt. "There. Now no one will be able to resist you." Maybe a little messier hair, but she knew better than to mess with someone's hair. Erotically maybe, but other than that? Definitely not. "Are we feeling Latin music or high pulse?" The question was asked as she moved away again, walking around the desk. @alaricfarrow

[alaricfarrow]

Words captured his mind and claimed his thoughts hostage. As Alaric turned the next page of the thick novel, all those exterior sensations were blurred out and resembled shallow ghosts of something untangible. The chatter of students and the sound of a gust of wind rustling through the branches of an old tree he sat beneath. It all merged into a somber concoction of white noise and it unearthed this hallow sense of ease he only ever found once his mind was on a venture to things estranged from his reality. Though, as a woman's voice burned through the serenity, this peaceful quiet he's been lingering in, he raised his brows and his gaze. Fiery strands were the first things blue eyes captured and he wondered if he had ever seen her before. Student or professor? How flattering. "Professor, actually." He spoke, a smile conjured up to sit atop his expression, as he lay down his book, his focus shifting. "I'm terribly sorry, but I might have missed what you said." @rockwelladeena

with: @alaricfarrow.

where: chapman university.

ava is the reason adeena was at university that afternoon. she had promised her daughter she would accompany her on a visit to explore the campus, meet the professors, and consider potential courses. however, during a brief break, adeena found herself observing people and reminiscing about her own student days. "i remember my time as a student like it was yesterday," she commented to no one in particular, sighing with nostalgia. "and yet, it's been twenty-seven years." a soft laugh escaped her, almost involuntarily, as she turned her gaze to the man nearby. "student or professor?"

[alaricfarrow]

closed starter for: @emilioxreyes location: della moda

"My friend," Alaric spoke, perhaps a little too frolicsomely, which stood in contrary opposition to the man's usually collected, bordering on immensely controlled, demeanor. A smile grew on his lips as he walked up to the man, whose familiarity was hard to dismiss or deny. "You have to help me, since I may or may not have found myself in a miserable predicament." Holding up two shirts in eggshell white shades, similar in style and hue, he presented to Emilio what he deemed his current struggle. "Which is the better fit for me?" Truthfully, it was unlikely to make a difference for anyone but him.

[alaricfarrow]

closed starter for: @waverly--erickson location: uptown books

The venture was something automated. Alaric would know the path, which was bound to take him downtown blind. Would find the sole bookstore he trusted without even seizing in his surroundings to orient himself in the town he'd grown up in. Kismet Harbor had not changed a lot - or so he thought. The homely atmosphere had never worn off, even if things were not in the slightest as they had once been. Now, there was an almost ubiquitous ponderousness underlying the atmosphere of his every day, even if there were few things to disrupt the infinite, albeit hazy gloom.

Eyes darted up when he rounded the final corner and suddenly, he realized, that his autopilot had been engaged ever since closing his home's door behind him. Another thing that came to his attention, even if not with immediate effect, was a familiar sight and forgotten were the thoughts that had kept him hostage for the duration of his venture down from Emerald Mist. A smile circled around his lips as he reached for the door, opening the way leading into the store and he stood still.

"Ms. Erickson," he said, a delighted tone carrying his words. "What a pleasant surprise. It's been quite a while, hasn't it?"

[alaricfarrow]

"Thank you." Politeness was a virtue Alaric had come to master over the course of his life and there were few things that could turn the masquerade into something sheer. Something translucent, for people to see the person lying beneath. Not like he knew. Of course not, for after all, the person who knew Alaric Farrow the least, was Alaric Farrow.

Armed with a cup of coffee, his saunter bordered on something close to idle, as his feet carried him through the café's space, to find a place to sit and ponder on the thoughts, swirling around his mind. Thoughts that were misplaced and themes, demanding more attention than his students' papers he needed to skim through.

And yet, as he neared an empty table, his step decelerated until he halted a mere foot from his destination. The woman's distress was palpable and he could feel his own muscles tense up, his brows furrow in a concoction of confusion and mild concern. "Excuse me, miss," he spoke, his voice soft as to not to alarm her any further. "Are you alright?" @kvtieansley

Where: The Daily Drip

Who: Katie and @alaricfarrow

"You don't get to lecture me about how I live my life, dad. Okay?" Katie said as she walked away from the order window with a hot cup in hand. Shocker, her parents lecturing her. They always did it, every damn time. And it drove her crazy. "

She rolled her eyes as she took sip, shaking her head. There he goes again. God..."Look, I've gotta go. Talk to you later," she muttered before hanging up. She knew she'd get another lecture later, because how dare she hang up on someone implying what an irresponsible parent and overall human being she was.

"Unbelievable," she muttered, looking around with an unfocused gaze. Okay, maybe she was proving her dad's point lately, but whatever. Let him think what he wants. Not like opinions mattered to her anymore.

[alaricfarrow]

closed starter for: @evelynrosewood location: streets of kismet harbor

"Do indulge me." His voice trailed off with the last syllable, as though a hazy swirling whirlwind of thoughts had seized his focus, claimed his attention and rendered his brain a useless source of white noise and temporary nothingness. As though he needed to ponder and remember what it had been he was meaning to ask her, even if the thought had been eating away at him for the past five minutes.

Alaric walked beside Evelyn with a saunter worthy of a brighter summer day. A cloudless sky was staring down at them, eternally blue with nothing but a lone seagull to disrupt a perfectly even imagery, if one were to hold their gaze skybound.

"You, as someone who knows a thing or two about the art of juggling words," he continued on, casting a sideward glance towards the blonde, a half-smile idling atop his lips. He found his footing again, easily turning a question he'd been meaning to ask her for a while now ( ever since he'd met her, more specifically ) into an admittedly bland reality. "What makes bad writing bad? And where does bad writing end and truly abominably writing begin? I mean, I have a theory, I'm just intrigued as to what your opinion on the matter is."

[alaricfarrow]

The smile he wore widened, grew larger marginally and his lips curved in a way that she would be most familiar with. A certain softness, reserved specifically for her, lingered on and was proven to be closely intertwined with the way his facial muscles moved and he canted his head sideways, as though contemplation of her words were a deemed necessity. He nodded, as though he needed to confirm his previous statement once more, as she spoke. "I can see that," he mused, his voice low against the almost serene quietness reigning his office. "It suits you." There had always been something regal about Joanna. Something magically ethereal. And when her words came tumbling from full lips, surprise came to flare across the expression he bore and not even he could discern whether it was genuine or something faux. Something feigned. "Am I, now?" She moved, fluid movements that could easily distract, though his blue eyes remained steady on hers. Differently colored and forever ceasing in the art of enchantment. And when her final question had been posed, the cock of a brow was an involuntary gesture. Something automated, beyond his control and he let silence swell and linger, his eyes resting on hers, before he drew in a warm breath. Yes, there were only few things on this world he wouldn't do for her. "How could I ever say no to such an offer?" @joanxwagner

Joanna's lips curled up instantly at his words, her feet wiggling on his desk. "It does, doesn't it? I do look rather good in a big chair. Kind of like in a position of power." She mused, mismatched eyes watching him as he moved towards her, leaning on the desk's surface, almost towering over her even with the distance between them. "Exactly." An utter, almost as if she was scared speaking any louder would burst the bubble they found themselves in. "You and I both know you're my most favourite person and I want to spend time with you as much as I can." Joanna told him, moving her legs from his desk, onto the ground, and raising up. She mimicked his position, leaning against the sturdy mahogany desk. "What do you say? Want to have fun with me tonight?" @alaricfarrow