#desxgnees

[laviexenrose]

Stella Mayfair was, by all accounts, regarded as a good friend by Isabelle, despite the fact that the two women could not have been more different in appearance or temperament. In truth, Isabelle doubted whether her former roommate had genuinely viewed her in much the same light– as a good friend, or a friend at all. A few months had gone by, and she had not heard so much as a peep from the other, but that was about to change…

The envelope was rather small, lighter than a feather. On the back was Isabelle’s name handwritten simply in ink. The writing looked quite familiar, though at that moment she couldn’t remember to whom it might belong. As Isabelle unsealed the flap, a curious sensation overwhelmed her. Eliminating suspense in the blink of an eye, she unveiled the invitation for a cruise party. A cruise party! Her features twitched with a mild surprise. While assuredly there weren't many people who would bother sending Isabelle anything in the mail, one of the last persons she would have ever guessed would be Stella– granted, at this point in time, she truly had no clue this invitation was from her, and in retrospect, she was not so surprised it was for a party. No, that had Stella Mayfair written all over it, and honestly, Isabelle felt a little silly she hadn’t easily determined who would invite her to such a grand soirée.

…

It was two weeks after she had received the curious invitation that Isabelle found herself boarding the ship, wondering if she’d made the right decision to come alone. It was a little reckless but also one of the most exciting things she had done in a while now. Perhaps for just this one time, she could fling some caution to the wind, let loose and maybe even enjoy herself a bit.

The party was in full swing. Once on board, Isabelle gave herself the moment to take it in– the crowd, the music, the incessant buzz of chatter and laughter, the liveliness of it all. Here, it was easy to forget about the rest of the world. The only thing Isabelle couldn’t get away from was wondering about who it was she needed to thank for sending her an invitation. And what better time to find out than at the party itself.

After mustering up the courage to approach people she didn’t know, Isabelle asked several of the partygoers, most of whom had likely had one drink too many, and none who knew who was host. Well, at least she had made an effort to find out. Afterwards, Isabelle chose a lonely corner to stand, feeling like a fish out of water as she quietly sipped champagne. Always taking pleasure from the simplest of things, she contentedly listened to the music, and that was good enough reason to stay a while longer. @desxgnees

[amillixnvoicesarch]

❛  i  mean  every  word  i  say .  ❜ - ( Charlotte ) @desxgnees​

         “And I’m sure THAT‘S A LIE. No offense, but we all lie. It comes...natural, I’d say.”

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees​ ( stella ) asked ::  ♤: Taking a bath together

the water makes the tub warm against his back. there’s music coming from the bedroom. he feels at ease finally back at the motherhouse. there were times when he feels like he’s been away too long. even though most of the time the last thing that he wants is to be strapped down. the elders seem to know that, sending him out again once he enters the door again. but this time there’s been nothing. this time it’s as if they want him to fixate all his time entirely on stella mayfair. but that would be absurd. because that would mean getting involved. they weren’t supposed to be get involved. but one couldn’t look at stella and not get involved. she’s like a spark of light that never seems to die down. something beautiful, something he wants to hold in his hands even though he knows that she’s going to skip right on out. and he gets that, he can understand her restlessness. he can understand how she wants nothing more than to run in every direction as long as she doesn’t have to stay in the same place too long. but she had taken his hand and ran with him all the way here. 

she’s there now, moving across the tiles almost effortlessly. swaying to the music. one wouldn’t be able to guess that just a short while ago she was terrified. she was a beaming light now. something too beautiful that he couldn’t grasp. no matter how badly he wanted to. she stops her dancing, moving towards him then. and there’s a bright smile on her face, those dark eyes are all lit up with excitement. she’s starting on the ties at her waist. his eyes lower to the movement, he sucks in a breath as he watches her. and he has to force out what he knows he has to say. 

“you shouldn’t be in here.”

she says something that dismisses it. about rebelling against structure, the law and order of things. off handed like they wouldn’t be able to read this off of him once he steps out. of course they would. how could he think of anything else once it was over? but his protests die out. the robe falls to the floor. and then she’s lowering herself into the water with him. her back pressing to his chest. she hands him the small bottle of shampoo there, with a soft request for her hair to be done. and he’s incapable of saying no to her about anything now, isn’t he? so he does it, soaping up her hair before he lets the bottle fall to the water in favor of holding her, tugging her more tightly against his chest. she’s humming to the music. he can feel that vibration through her back. he brushes a kiss to the side of her face. 

“do you feel safe here?” in a whisper. almost desperate for her answer. 

[amillixnvoicesarch]

❛  i  don’t  wanna  know  i’m  not  capable  of  coming  out  alive .  ❜  - ( Julien ) @desxgnees​

        “I don’t think you get a CHOICE in that matter,” Morgana says, shaking her head ever so slightly. “We’re all MORTAL, in a way, some more than others, maybe, but still. Everything else though? You get to make your choices there, and maybe those will determine whether you come out the other side of whatever you’re doing alive,”

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees ( deidre ) :: “I swear I thought our date was set for seven… You know I wouldn’t stand you up.” / meme 

it was a little pathetic that he had been sitting here this whole time, just waiting for her to show up. checking his watch, the clock on the wall, or just ignoring the time altogether. because why not? what good was counting seconds going to do him if she never showed up anyways? an hour. that meant that she wasn't going to come. he hadn't been stood up before. he wasn't entirely sure what the rule on something like that was. did an hour mean she wasn't going to bother showing? or could he still count this as a little game? she hadn't struck him as someone who played games. but what did he know? women could be bloody unpredictable at times. he had wasted enough time just sitting around. and there was a pretty blonde at the bar who had looked over a few times, smoothed back her hair when he gave her a smile. so he might as well buy her a drink, end the bloody night on a high note. there was no reason for him to think of deirdre. he wouldn't. he wasn't one to waste his time on things like that. if it didn't pan out there was always something else that would.

he starts to get up but then there she is. showing up out of no where like some kind of bloody ghost. just popping up with her little excuse, too. and he has to pretend like he was doing something. straightening his jacket. ignoring the look that the blonde gives him right over deirdre's head. all that dark hair spilling around her face. she looks nervous though. nervous enough for the both of them. good thing he wasn't bloody nervous. it's hard not to buy the excuse she gives. it just comes out so naturally that he can't help but feel like it's clearly the only explanation. it actually gives him some relief, doesn't it? it would've been awkward picking olver up from class if she had done it on purpose. he had already thought of a million ways to not have to see her when he did. an hour is a long time to think of different escape plans.

but now she's standing there before him. and he has to play it cool. she won't like someone nervous and unsure. he had to know she was coming. no one had ever stood him up before. but looking up at her now. not much really. she's really just head and shoulders over him when he sits. she's a fragile little thing, isn't she? like lacework. a little knotty, too. and he feels the need to just put his arms around her, bury her against his chest, cover her in kisses if she'd let him. to get her out of this restaurant and take her somewhere better. he didn't know where. just better. light, had he thought that he'd avoid her? he would've gotten on his knees and thanked her if she had stood him up. she could do just about anything she wanted, walk this way and that all over him. but instead she stood there like she wasn't so sure to do with her hands, like he might be mad at her for running just a little late. she looked at him like that a lot, like she wasn't so sure what to do with him. anything. that was the answer to her unasked question. pathetic, but only when he wasn't looking into those endless blue eyes like a man willing to drown. but she droned on, about her age, about the way she didn't know much about anything. light help him, getting her to agree to this had been a bloody trial. he got the feeling he was going to have to start thinking of creative ways to shut her up. "i didn't mind waiting." a pause, his smile widening as he lifts his eyes briefly to her face. "not for you"

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees​ ( charlotte ) asked :: your muse crying about something

it’s late. he knows that from the sounds outside of the window. he’s gotten used to this island, hasn’t he? like a home almost. except he’s never been good at settling. eventually he’ll have to move on. he’s sure of that. he’s never been more sure of anything. he tells himself that all the time, he’ll move on, he’ll leave. he’ll forget her. only the feeling seems to sink in him when he opens his eyes. the late night noises, the heat beating down on him, her bareback. her head bowed, her hair obscuring most of her face. but he can hear the quiet sound of her crying, a low whimpering sound. her shoulders shake a little bit, just a barely there movement. he could easily toss the blanket over his head and turn around. forget it. she would probably prefer if he were to do that. if he were to pretend like he hadn’t heard her. she might even get a little hostile if he were to try to comfort her. and besides he wants to go back to sleep. it’s not worth losing good rest over. 

with a heavy breath he moves to sit up, pushing the covers a bit from him. she doesn’t look at him. he doesn’t say anything. he’s a little unsure of what to say to her. maybe she’ll tell him to go to bed. maybe she’ll let him off easy. he reaches his hand out and lightly trails the tips of his fingers along her spine before pressing his hand flat against the skin of her back. he wants to ask her, he wants her to wilt a little against him. maybe even ask him to take whatever it was from her hands. light, but that’s a little pathetic, isn’t it? he shouldn’t let himself feel like that. he’s leaving soon. it was just an insane thought. he’d be gone sooner. maybe even tomorrow if he can find a ship. 

“charlotte...” he says her name but she doesn’t respond. the heat makes a chill run up his back. contradiction. like the sound of her crying, the sight of her. “....come here.” and she does. only she doesn’t wilt. she merely leans. and the sounds outside are so deafening he’s sure he can’t hear whatever it was she whispered. but it was against his neck. soft, heated. he closes his eyes. maybe he could go back to bed now.

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees​ ( mary beth ) asked :: “why did you tell them we were a couple?”

that wasn’t what he had said exactly. no, the last thing that he would’ve done was something that stupid. mary beth was not only a bloody intimidating woman, cut like stone. but she also hated him. and not in the fun sort of way either. the bloody woman was ridiculous, wasn’t she? pressing on him completely. he swears that she’s meant to kill him more than once. and nothing about that had been fun either. unfortunately, she was a striking woman although a little severe, wasn’t she? why hadn’t she though? restraint didn’t seem her strong suit. and with what he knew about her demon and the things she had made it do --- he feels a chill run down his back. and he’s well aware of her eyes on him. her deep piercing gaze that so effortlessly cuts away at his skin. 

he swallows harshly, shifting a little so that he can lean back against the wall. he wants to be able to block his mind off from her constant prying. something tells him that she’s going to probe him, she’s going to skin him alive, and swallow him whole, isn’t she? he lets out a laugh, shaking his head at what she said. “it’s not so bad, is it?” he asks, a lift of his brow as he finally makes himself meet her eyes. light, if looks could kill then, if looks could kill. he wishes that julien were there suddenly. he wonders if that’s the only reason the woman’s kept him alive this long. but long would that really last? these past two weeks have felt like an eternity begging for her grace. 

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees​ ( charlotte ) asked :: “Remember how I said I don’t know how to swim?  I meant that.” 

she stood there at the edge of the water. she looked magnificent, didn’t she? beautifully magnificent. he knew that he was in over his head here. there was a thick layer of talk around her. who was she? where did she come from? and yet here stood, lacking on the answers. but looking at her now he didn’t seem too bothered by the whole bloody thing. he didn’t want to be bothered by it. this little tidbit was the most that she had ever given him. after all their time together this was the most she had given. and it strikes him as kinda funny, doesn’t it? that this “secret” should even matter. and who said that it was a secret? he liked the thought that maybe charlotte was not the type to admit that she was incapable of doing something. especially not when he had just expressed his expertise in it. 

he won’t tell her but she actually looks a little lost, doesn’t she? with all that blonde hair spilling over her bare shoulders, her eyes moving over the water like she’s unsure of what to do with the mass of it. he moves then to stand behind her. something about it feels dangerous. that’s the thing with her though, isn’t it? something about her is incredibly dangerous. witch, that’s what they called her. he’s heard the whispers. and yet the feeling that remains inside of him is not fear. what a joke he is. he almost laughs, he would’ve. if it weren’t for the quiet yearning that beats inside of him.  he sets his hands on her arms, leaning forward so that he can catch the sight of the side of her face. a striking profile. beautiful. flawlessly, devilishly. he smiles. “trust me enough to teach you?”

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees​ ( mona ) asked :: ♜: Shoulder rubs

her small hand run over his back, it feels like she’s just making shapes or patterns at first. she tugs at the ends of his hair, keeps situating herself differently on his back. light pressure. she feels good there. he likes the warmth of her thighs on either side of him. and the way that her hands start getting more firm just then. he lets his eyes close. well, that was pretty much heaven. but it had been with her little touches, too, hadn’t it? anything that involved her putting her hands on him was like a little piece of heaven. she was really something else, always doing something that seemed to get under his skin. in a funny sort of way, a way that he wished wouldn’t happen. sometimes he felt a little ridiculous when she flashed those endless green eyes on him. like he was some kind of idiot and only for her. light, only for her. 

she runs her hands up to his shoulder. he lets out a sound. quiet, muffled by the way the side of his face is pressed to the pillow. every muscle in his body suddenly feels at ease, all tension gone. her hands are soft, he can catch the scent of her perfume. had she asked him a question? he didn’t hear it. he just lays there as if he’s completely boneless. her hands stop moving but they’re still pressed there. she leans forward. all that red hair caresses across his back, veils his face he notices when his eyes briefly open. and he realizes that he’s surrounded by her. completely and entirely. she asks if he’s sleeping. and he has to smile, a lazy kind of smile. but he doesn’t answer. he hears her soft laughter. sounds like music, doesn’t it? and then she’s laying there against his back. and that might feel almost as good as when she had been working on his shoulders. 

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees​ ( rowan ) asked : ♛: Sharing a dessert 

okay, so the problem was that he hadn’t expected to be sitting out here for that long. and he was starting to feel the effects of it. the long waning hours that seemed to stretch. the waiting, that’s what the problem was, he hated waiting. watching her wasn’t so bad though, she looked nice out here. in a light suit, her hair sweeping the side of her face when she turns to look at him. her eyes are steely almost but alive. something about him undoes him a little bit, doesn’t it? alarming, that’s a good enough word for her. he swallows harshly, shifting just a little bit away from her. his arm brushes her’s.  she’s eating something, ice or something. not ice cream. it’s - 

well, he’s distracted again, isn’t he? because whatever she’s eating is pink and it’s on her bottom lip for a brief moment before it melts away when she licks it off. and for a moment he’s just looking. before he reaches over and takes some of it from the cup she’s holding. which grants him a scornful noise as she shifts away from him. creating a space he’d rather not have. he laughs though, as if he wasn’t in over his head already. sometimes just being in the room with her felt like that. there was a command to her that would make most feel a bit intimidated. but leaves him feeling, what was that? curious? or just downright frustrated that she was tough to nail down. 

“it’s hot out. and you’re being bloody selfish.” her eyes narrow. he closes the space between them. and then with some muttering about how ridiculous he is, how ridiculous he always is she’s careful to point out, she keeps the cup just low enough for him to reach again if he wants to. he doesn’t, not really. his thoughts still on that one pink piece. trying to shake it from his head doesn’t work out all too well.

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees​ ( julien ) asked : “Wait, but I didn’t want you to stop holding me.” 

he’s drunk. that much is obvious from the way that he can’t even keep himself up. they had been out a little too long last night. but where he knew where to pull stops julien seemed not to. which was bloody insane, wasn’t it? because he had always heard that he never knew when to stop, that he was always doing a little too much. drinking, chasing after women, doing what he can to get in trouble. but julien was a different kind of story, wasn’t he? because he didn’t seem to think there was a limit. like there was no top to the whole bloody roof. so he’s been clinging to him the whole way, all the way up those flaming stairs, too. as if he hadn’t had enough to drink himself, making his footing feel a little unsteady, too. plus with the added weight that tugs him along, all the way to the room. he had been trying to drop julien down there, trying to disentangle himself from him. but julien was making it difficult to let him do that. 

he lets out a laugh as he lowers himself to sit on the edge of the bed, pushing him a bit from him. “i’m not holding you, man..” he says, laying julien back best he can onto the bed. he’s flushed with alcohol, a little red faced, his hair a bit wild on top his head. there’s some stains on his fine shirt, too. but he figures the bloody idiot is rich enough to get a brand new one with a snap of his fingers. he’s about to get up and go. he’s gotten him back into the room, into the bed. well, mostly at least. but he’s a lot to carry. he’s not going to dress him for bed and tuck him in. he wasn’t a bloody baby. 

but he pauses when julien says his name. there’s no more laughing. and for one second he looks sober enough, doesn’t he? and a bit - what was it? the man looked a bit - was it scared? lonely? lost even? a million words run through his head. he’s been drinking, too. and those bloody stairs are a chore to go down, aren’t they? with a heavy breath he sits down on the ground. dropping himself down heavily. he drops his head back against the bed. and he feels the brush of juliens hand to his hair. something mutters. was it ‘thanks, old boy’? he almost laughs. but it feels drained. he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to fall asleep here.

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees​ ( rowan ) asked :: “Not sure how this happened, but your mom thinks I’m dating you.” 

it had started off as a joke, hadn’t it? just a joke. really he hadn’t meant it. but that was a line that his mom had bit down on. and hard, so bloody hard that he couldn’t seem to loosen her jaws. she had looked rowan up, went all gushy about how accomplished, how established she was. light, everyone in town knew who she was now. and they were all looking at him with the utmost confusion. some even going as far as saying that a smart woman like that, a bloody surgeon with her whole life in order was insane for even being interested in a guy like him. then when he had gone back to new york the whole thing had pretty much left his head. he had forgotten about the whole joke and refocused his attention on work, on anything but whatever nonsense had spilled over on his last trip home.

but then his mom had come for lunch and they had crossed paths, for a brief moment with rowan. which had turned into - well, this line of questioning. but there’s a quirk to her lips just then, the gray of her eyes has this glint in them. almost like she’s making fun of him. she is, isn’t she? sometimes he’s not sure. if he’s the punch line or just someone that she finds amusing enough to be around. he can’t lie and say that he doesn’t like the little guessing game of what’s going on in rowan’s head. she has no idea about that though. and if she did - well, that’s another one to go on guessing about, isn’t it? 

his eyes search her’s a moment and then eventually a smile come to his face. deciding that that’s okay. he leans on the counter beside them. with the shoes she’s got on she’s just about eye level with him. there’s a shadow across her cheek from her hair. her eyes are narrowed now. she looks an awful lot like a disgruntled mother. albeit a little amused still. “my mom takes things i say a little too literally.” and it comes slowly, the way her laughter spills out of her. she pushes at his shoulder with a muttering of ‘you and me -’ like it was just about the funniest bloody thing that she’s ever heard. 

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees​ ( mary beth ) asked :: ♔ : Finding your muse wearing their clothes 

he didn’t know what to think, seeing her like that. done up in something that he had left laying around. julien had a wide smile on his face. and he felt something in him sink just a little bit. because he knew that this was the last thing that any of them wanted, to have to go out together. but julien is saying something. and funnily enough mary beth looks a bit - well, a bit bloody dashing. with the snug fit of the shirt over her chest, the rest of it seemed to set on her shoulders just right, a little long though. he could note that. it was a fine suit though, bloody expensive. and it was going to smell of powders and perfume. or something ridiculous. only that word doesn’t seem to fit mary beth. 

“what is this?” but he knows exactly what it is. and he knows that julien is aware that this is a bad idea. the smile he’s wearing says it all. is he doing this on purpose? does he really think this is a good idea? he hesitates on the response. his eyes linger on mary beth. she hardly looks like a  woman standing there. the sort of thing that messes with your head, isn’t it? she would like that a little too much, wouldn’t she? well, if she ever even gave him the time of day. he doubted that she did that. 

“i don’t want to go.” and that seemed to make mary beth just about the happiest woman in bloody new orleans right then. as they started away he reached out and caught mary beth’s arm. “don’t get anything on that jacket.” but now he’s starting to regret it. like maybe the bloody thing would be in tatters next time he saw it. 

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees​ ( deborah ) asked :: ♦: Slow dancing 

tomorrow this would all come to an end. he knew that. they both did. they had said as much, hadn’t they? in half spoken words and knowing looks. no promises had been made, no sweet words at least not the kind that would bind them here. neither of them could be. she had her daughter waiting for her. he’d like to see the island, to set his feet down on the solid ground again. but he didn’t think it was a good idea. he should leave, leave her here to her life and him off to the ocean, off to his own life and adventures. deborah was as pretty as could be in her soft silk dress. she had been dozens of things to him since she had come onto his ship. she had been merely another passenger, practically a stowaway, a bad omen, a witch, a healer, destruction itself, and then simply a woman. just that. that was what she was now, standing before him alone in his cabin. dressed up beautifully, the candle’s flame flickers across her face, in those eyes of hers. a witch’s gaze, that’s what talmanes had said. and mat had only laughed it off. but standing there before her now he feels like he is under her spell. one more night. and he swears in that moment a lifetime wouldn’t be enough. 

it’s just a thought. one that he’ll laugh at in the morning. because he had never been a man to be tied down. a lifetime would feel far too bloody long. he liked the freedom, he liked the feeling of having nothing to hold him down. but right now with the music from the hall spilling through the walls and her looking as pretty as ever - he wasn’t thinking clearly. a witch, she was one, wasn’t she? a bloody witch. who healed him with her herbs and remedies when the fever had almost killed him. a bloody witch, spellbound and almost miserable with the want to be closer to her. he tries to shake off the feeling but he can’t. his hands find her waist, her hands find his shoulders. and she’s looking up at him through her thick dark lashes. he leans closer. she smells like something sweet, soap and the ocean water. he feels her breath tickle the side of his face. “it’s a shame that i never asked you to dance before. i’ve been told i’m a great dancer.” he says with a laugh and she does, too. the warm vibration of her body against his. he tugs her closer. he’ll miss her. but he doesn’t say it. he shifts just slightly to catch her eyes. her gaze softens then - he feels the tug in his chest. he swallows harshly. his eyes hold hers, he lets out a shaky breath. she nods. he nods. he brushes the side of his face to hers, to her neck. he won’t have to say it. no need for prettily worded promises. 

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees​ ( suzanne ) asked :: reading a book together

his mother had told him that she would make a good wife. pretty little suzanne, the queen of the may fair. a girl that was always leading a helping hand to every one around her. she kept a clean house and her cooking was just about as good as her’s, that’s what she said. that’s what she told him every single bloody day. like if she grated on him enough about the whole thing he’d eventually do it. but tough luck that was. he had plans. he was going to leave this place soon enough. turn his back on everything here. he’d ride out of here and have himself an adventure. and why shouldn’t he? a place like this was all too confining. he wondered about the stories he heard from passing travelers, he wondered about the witches being hunted throughout europe, about what merchants saw, what the world looked like outside of this small village. he wondered and dreamed, watching the way the stars blinked in the dark night sky. wanting to be just about as far away as they were. 

he was not going to marry suzanne. just because he often stopped her in the middle of the square to ask her if she needed an escort home. he had walked arm in arm with a few other girls before, women, too. and it hardly meant anything. he wasn’t interested in getting married. it didn’t matter how pretty she was. or how she looked at him - light, he didn’t know how to describe how she looked at him sometimes. it made him feel good like he knew so much about the world. his mother would send him to meet her, in discreet public places with these small gifts. he knew what they meant, suzanne knew what they meant, the whole bloody village knew what they meant. but he said there’d be no harm in it. there hadn’t been gifts for some time now. they were mulling over this book. she wanted to learn to read. but he hated reading. although his mother had painstakingly taught him. there were proud pats on the head and the switch scattered over every lesson he could recall. suzanne though hadn’t had that luxury. until now - he doesn’t even know what he agreed. 

but she was looking at him like that again. and it made him feel - well, he felt sure of himself, like a man of the bloody world and all that. he opened the book to the chapter that they were on. it was a bit expensive, a gift from his father to his mother. and maybe that implication was worse than all the other little gifts. “how about you start without me leading?” he asks, a small smile on his face. she touches his arm. a brief thing really. but she smiles back. soft, ready, sure of herself because he’s there next to her. didn’t that feel good, too? “you’ll do just fine.”

[luckhissoul]

@desxgnees​ ( mona asked ) ::  “Oh, you were just kidding about this being a swim suit party?”

well, that was obvious that it was some kind of joke, right? but if he said that then he thinks that she would get offended or something. she might give him a glare and get dismissive the whole bloody night. and he wasn’t interested in a cold shoulder. that was the last thing that he wanted. he laughs it off, not too much. he measures the amount. like he’s playing a long running game, unsure of where he’s headed but knowing that there’s a goal right in sight. right there in front of him, with a mass of red hair and her bright green eyes glinting with the street lights over head. and he can’t seem to stop the way his eyes linger on her a little too long. he takes a step closer to her, biting back a full smile as he meets her eyes. but she is something to look at, isn’t she? is she aware of how hard it is for him to not reach for her then. something about the way she’s looking up at him makes him think that she’s doing this whole bloody thing on purpose. he can easily recall the way her skin felt, his hands in her hair, her eyes burning with a look he could describe. burning. 

he lifts his hands but he doesn’t touch her. regrettably. he should tell her that they don’t even have to go to the party. she’s standing there wearing next to nothing and he could think of a million - he’s taking off his jacket instead. there’s goosebumps rising along the light skin of her arms, her shoulders, her chest. he lifts his eyes back to her’s, settling the jacket over her shoulders. “it was a bad joke.” he says and his smile widens just a little bit then. his hands graze her shoulders, down the lapels of the jacket so that he can cover her a little more. the jacket is almost funny looking on her, hanging over her small shoulders, hanging to the middle of her thighs. he clutches the front of it in his hand, bunching it closed together. he pulls her to him then. there’s that soft floral scent again, heady and making him slip out of his mind a little bit. a dizzying feeling. he leans a little more towards her. “now that you’re all covered all.” he says with a small shrug of his shoulder and then he presses a kiss to her cheek, pulling back a little bit to look at her. light, he likes to look at her, doesn’t he? he always finds himself staring at her. how many times had rand called him out on it. but it was rand’s fault for hiring someone that looked the way she did. “but who says we have to go inside to find out if i really lied?”