#sade:thread

[loveisliquor]

@munofmanyminds

The room is spinning. Before, when she'd been dancing-- the spinning made sense. but now, she's standing still, and leaning against a bathroom counter covered in a light dusting of cocaine. She dials Roman's number from memory, her hand shaking slightly as she squints at the too bright screen. "Ro--" she hiccups softly, when she realises he's picked up. "Please don't be mad--" her voice is soft but slurred, and she's too new at this to be any good at disguising her inebriation. "I'm-- i'm at onyx and there's this guy-- I-- I had all these shots and the room won't stop spinning, and he won't leave me alone--" There's a part of her that just feels ashamed that she couldn't handle herself, that she was calling him for a rescue. "I don't know what to do--"

[loveisliquor]

He doesn't mean anything by it-- she knows that. But the small smile he gives her puts another crack in the carefully constructed boundaries of their relationship. She'd prefer if her crush had died a quiet, peaceful death, but sometimes he smiles at her in a way that feels entirely too intimate, and her traitorous little heart skips a beat or two. A quiet reminder that it's still there, quieter maybe-- but alive. "I like baby--" She confesses, her smile still wide and warm. She doesn't give a reason, just breezes onto the next topic and tries to shove her vulnerability underneath the table cloths.

"You can't own another person's butt Roman--" She watches him, literally inflate when he catches sight of the other man and bites back a giggle with some modicum of success. The amusement, though--that's still all over her face. "If he comes over here it's because my date is clearly not interested in me-- not that this is a date but-- you know what I mean--he might come and ask you out. Look away--- what if they're...one of the upside down pineapple people, and want us to join them because you can't keep your eyes off him? "

"I'm not sure I believe in breaks Ro--" The closest thing she'd ever had to a break had been sleepovers with his sister. No mother, no scripts, no one watching her, waiting for her mistakes. There was just Hayley, and laughter--and trouble, but the good kind, the necessary kind. "Oh shut-- you know what I mean." She scowls, but it's playful still-warm. " That's lovely--I'm glad the boys are good." She loves what he does at the gym, for most it'd be a strange contrast to what they projected onto him, but she still remembers the boy at the end of the bar making sure his sister and her dumb friend don't get too drunk at the bar-- but watching out for them, without asking for anything in return. "Even if there was I'd have to tickle it out of you or something--" She wrinkles her nose as he mentions vegas and feels her stomach twist. "What vegas deal?" She tilts her head, a small smirk on her lips. "I... already turned it down. Right before dinner actually--" She's still wrestling with her decision even if she knows it's the right thing. "I'm contemplating taking..." She leans in over the table, in an overly dramatic fashion, and whispers--- a vacation."

Confronted with the use of that moniker, one that had jumped off his tongue without much thought, he let out a little cough, scratching a little awkwardly at the stubble on his chin. He hadn't thought much of it; it was something he used with most of his female friends, but it dawned on him that he had specifically avoided it with Sade until now. "Uhh, apparently," Was all the smoothness of his somewhat sheepish response, lips curling into a wry little smile.

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that butt don't belong to me." He shrugged his shoulders, glancing back the man in question. "Look, if he's dumb enough to keep lookin' over here, he's dumb enough to get too fuckin' close too." His eyes narrowed at the bastard, shoulders tensing back up as he straightened, seemingly getting bigger on the spot. "Disrespectful as fuck."

Roman took a beat to just listen as Sade began to speaking. Thankfully, his mother had never put pressure on him to be anything in particular. These days she was probably just thankful he wasn't spending the majority of his time behind bars, truth be told. And yet somehow he still kind of understand where Sade was coming from - in his own way. He gave a slight shrug of one shoulder at her apologies, easily dismissing it. "Gotta give yourself a break, S." It was all he managed to say before the waiter came looking for them.

Leaving his own menu unopened as they sat, he finished the water in the glass he'd brought with him from the bar. "I am right in front of you." A smile wound itself onto his lips. "I'm good. Gym's good. My boys are good. Not all that much to tell. It's business as usual on my end. So that won't get you out of talking about that Vegas deal."

[loveisliquor]

"don't worry, i'm an actress remember-- i'm sure i can fake it." she murmurs underneath her breath. her frustration is written all over her features. "sorry, that wasn't exactly... kind." she exhales softly, and meets his gaze. "we can-- i can stand to be within...4 feet of you." she takes a step closer, and smirks. "winning."

synopsis — fake marriage ! paris huxley , future ceo of the huxley hotel empire , despite indifference towards the role .

gaze lands on the woman who now bears his last name . ' they're not going to believe this marriage is real if we can't stand to be within a few feet of each other . '

[loveisliquor]

She tries not to look as distraught as she feels-- with red eyes, smudged mascara and a dress that keeps riding up as she walks, she can almost hear her mother's criticisms in her head, sloppy sade. It's a messy, awful picture, and he's the last person she'd ever want to see it. She follows him out without complaint, her mind still spinning from the drink in her veins. "They--- just have other things on their mind--" The urge to defend her new "friends" sparks, but it's blown out quickly. She knows that they weren't worth her time, they weren't her real friends, but it had been nice, for a moment to pretend be the kind of girl that sucked all the air out of the room. "You're right. I know you're right--" He takes her hand in his and it sielnces her prattling, his skin is rough but warm and steady against her.

She's half sure she's had a dream that started like this, him holding her hand and then-- fuzzier, steamier details followed. Tonight though, she just stays as close to him as she can manage and tries to ignore the part of her that preens at the attention, that likes the slightly soft edge to his voice when he speaks to her. She stays close, and keeps her head down, ignoring the crowd around them. Someone calls her name-- but she's determined not to look up, until she sees broad shoulders come into view and bump directly into Roman. Brown eyes look up and flicker from warmth to worry immediately, it's the man from earlier-- the one she'd bolted from and he's pissed. There's little warning before he starts screaming at her-- loud enough to be heard over the din of the club, to make her stomach tense in fear. "You're just a fucking tease-- stupid slut--" The man grabs her free wrist roughly, and attempts to pull her from Roman's grip but she yanks her hand back and tucks herself behind Roman automatically, putting as much distance between them as the club would allow. "Let me go! --I already said no." She doesn't yell too loudly, she goes for de escalation but it's clear the strange man is on something, his eyes are wild under the technicolour lights and can't hear beyond the haze of whatever is crackling through his blood stream.

"Didn't think it was," he interjected somewhat rudely when she hurried to tell him the powder in question wasn't hers. Dark eyes narrowed slightly, breath leaving evenly through his nostrils as his gaze abandoned her to trail their surroundings once more; reading the room the same way he always did. Coloured lights bounced off glassware and the glistening skin of people crowding the dance floor. Not his scene, not really, but one he was fairly used to being in - even if he usually preferred a distanced presence rather than being in the midst of it.

A girl moved past them, and Roman, barely sparing her a glance, held the door open just long enough for her to slip into the bathroom before he released the door and let it slide shut behind Sade. "Don't really give a fuck whose idea it was, y'know," he finally told her, directing the weight of his gaze back onto her when her fingers brushed against him. "But if those bitches left you here like this, they're not people you should give the fucking time of day."

He gave a subtle shake of his head, jaw shifting visibly. And then, because he had no intention of losing her in the crowd, and didn't want to risk it, Roman reached down and wrapped his fingers around one of her hands, calloused skin warm and rough against her softness. And when he spoke this time, leaning in to allow her to hear him even at a lower volume, there was something a little softer curling beneath the anger, "Stay close, alright?" And with that, Roman began moving them through the crowd, walking ahead of her to clear a path for her to walk in. Most people, reasonably enough, shifted out of the way when they saw him coming, but when a shoulder brushed his own along the way, Roman tightened his grip on Sade's hand and pulled her a little closer to him.

[loveisliquor]

There's something soft-- a little shy-- in her eyes, a slight smattering of embarrassment, like he'd caught her doing something she shouldn't. She's not 16 anymore, but he's still off limits in a strange, intangible way-- still her best friend's older brother. "I'm baby now?" She smirks at him, her eyes darkening for a moment and then--crinkling with the force of her laughter. Because of course-- it's his pride. "No-- not obvious. Ridiculous, certainly. That makes no sense to me-- it's not even your butt!" Her laughter softens, until her amusement is nothing but a simmering undercurrent in their conversation, wrapped around every word. "You're glaring at him, I don't think he's coming anywhere near me. Not with Rowena the vein doing the tango on your neck." Her shoulders are at ease here, she laughs easily too, there is no one trying to catch her out, no one trying to get a scoop, no mother to disapprove. There's just Roman and the ridiculous

"I'm-- okay." She shrugs half heartedly, "It's a show my mother wants me to do but I just, want a break, you know? Vegas would be a great opportunity but, I need some space to breathe. But breathing feels like I'm betraying something or someone, too. I've always worked- -you know? It's strange to think of myself, without it. I might be having some sort of quarterlife crisis--" She wrinkles her nose mid yap, and shrugs. "Sorry-- didn't mean to-- info dump I just, never really talk about this stuff." She gives him a shy smile, a question on the tip of her tongue--but they're interrupted by the waiter who finally seats them. She waits till they're settled and looking over the menu to ask-- "How are you, Ro? You seem--good but, it's hard to tell when you're not right in front of me."

"Naw, just the ones practically beggin' for it." He cut her a dry look, eyes a little narrowed at her teasing, though one side of his lips twitched minutely with humour - enough to soften the somewhat hostile look into something a little playful as her finger slid along the muscled column of his neck. His gaze dropped to her finger as it fell away as though she were a child pulling her hand off the hotplate at the realisation that it hurt. "Not the first time, baby. Not the last." He shrugged it off, lifting his eyes back to hers.

"Mine. Wasn't that obvious?" It was a gruff kind of humour she lured out of him, full lips curling into a half smile, always at least a little reluctantly charmed by her particular mixture of innocent and free-spirited. "Yeah yeah, I already agreed, didn't I?" A brow quirked, dark eyes fixed on her as requested. "Long as he keeps his distance." He shook his head before taking a sip of his water. Then, changing the subject: "Speaking of catching up... how're you doing these days? Hayley said something about Vegas?"

[loveisliquor]

He's angry. She isn't sure she's ever seen him angry with her, and it disquiets her-- her drunken brain can't think past the barely concealed displeasure on his features, and her eyes sting with unshed tears. She hates this-- the way the alcohol pulls all her feelings to the surface, turns her into a weepy, embarrassing mess. As if this isn't bad enough. "Oh--" She bites her bottom lip, his words feel like they soothe something, despite the edge of his tone. For a second she doesn't know what to say, and then--finally-- "Thank you." Though it doesn't feel like it's enough. She follows his lead, brushes past him on mostly steady legs. She glances at the powder and then at his face, mortified. "It's not mine--I promise-- I-- I drank--did my best girls gone wild impression but it's--no nose candy for me." she brushes her skirt, in case she'd gotten any powder on her, and tugs the hem of it down a little. he has a way of making her feel... self-conscious.

"It's wasn't even really my idea. I was with a bunch of girls-- they were coming here it just sort of happened." she waves her hands emphatically, her movements still a little sloppy, and she brushes against his chest. firm-- her brain notes. And her mind veers off into the memory she had of him in the pool three summers ago--she blinks it away, and yanks her hand back, into safer-- easier territories. "This is not my scene--" She hiccups softly. "Stupid idea-- really. I just--want to go home." She confesses, quietly.

Of course he was fucking angry. He was furious. Partly with whichever asshole had decided he had a right to scare her like that, partly with her for putting herself in this situation to begin with. But he didn't bother saying any of that on the phone; his half cranky, sleep-riddled brain couldn't work out a way to say anything that would come off even remotely helpful. So all he did was jump to action, hanging up before she'd even had a chance to reply. It didn't matter what she had to say; she'd called, so he came running. Just as she probably knew he would.

His eyes landed on her the second after the words had left his mouth, and he released a pent up sigh with a shake of his head, movements clipped with anger - even as the hard lines on his features softened slightly. Like seeing her, safe and sound, reassurance that she hadn't stupidly done something to make her situation worse while waiting for him, took the edge off. "You can always call me," he told her then, the hardness of his tone a stark contrast to the affectionate nature of his words. "Always." Pushing the door open for her, he gestured towards the club outside. "Let's go." Gaze catching on the remnants of white powder on the surface beside her, a low grunt emerged from the back of his throat. "Christ, why the fuck would you even come here in the first place, huh?"

[loveisliquor]

"I-- please don't be angry--" She murmurs into the phone. She's embarrassed, ashamed-- and the alcohol does nothing for her emotional control. She's normally even keeled, but she's on the verge of tears for reasons she can't make out. Everything is murky. She nods at his instruction-- she had no plans of trying to join her "friends" for the rest of the night. There's nothing "Okay--I'm here--" She spends a few moments with her ear pressed against the phone, even when she knows he's hung up. He's coming-- that's something. She takes deep, steadying breaths, ignores the way her arm smarts from when that man had grabbed her a little harder than he should have. Her head is still swimming, still thrumming with the base, tequila, flooded with the chants of more more more her so called friends had sung as she'd downed shots. Stupid. She's halfway through a spiral when she finally hears Roman-- she looks up, and waves. "Yes-- I'm in here--" She waves, lamely. "I-- I'm sorry." She bites her bottom lip as she meets his gaze. Shame lances through her the second their eyes meet. "I didn't know who else to call."

Roman's phone was never on silent - so the loud blaring of his ringtone in the middle of the night had him groggily reaching for the damned thing. Eyes at half mast, he didn't even check the caller before he swiped to pick up and held it to his ear. "Yeah?" The word was rough, grumbled and heavy with sleep. Only half conscious yet awake enough to register the voice on the other, he let out a grunt. "Why w..." A little more conscious now, dragged out of the fog by the distress hanging on her words, he stopped himself before he could finish his question. A frown touched his forehead, and he was swinging his legs out of bed before he'd even blinked his eyes fully open. "Fucking hell, Sade." Dragging his available hand down his face to will himself awake, he groaned. "Just," he sighed, "hang tight. Hide out in a toilet stall if you need to. I'm on my way." And then he hung up on her, quick to grab a discarded pair of jeans off the floor.

He was fully awake by the time he was out the door, quick to get himself and his car to Onyx. Fairly well-known to most people in the area, he bypassed the line outside, greeted the door man, and then strode inside without further delay. Pissed off and yet fully on a mission, Roman weaved his way through the crowd without much trouble. It was late, most were drunk off their asses at this point, and he was big enough - and exuding enough brutal energy - that they instinctively moved out of the way. He let his eyes scour his surroundings as he walked, until he - without pause - burst through the door to the restroom. "Sade? You in here?"

[loveisliquor]

"...Ro--" Her eyes widen at his tone and she glares at him. She doesn't bother turning around to see who he's speaking about-- her mind is on their reservation and how close they would be to losing it if he picked a fight. "I didn't even notice him--i'm too focused on the pasta I'm about to eat--" her nose wrinkles in frustration. "You cannot fight here, they have the best oxtail ravioli and I need it, I want it injected into my veins. It's my deathbed meal. You're not blowing my date with that pasta because some man keeps looking at my butt--" She crosses her arms across her chest, a determined look on her face. "Roman--" She says softly, her brown eyes wide and pleading-- "Please? Look at me--" She smiles warmly. "Pasta."

A closed lil unplanned starter thing for @loveisliquor / Roman & ??

“If that guy takes one more lewd fuckin' look at your ass, I am going over there.” Eyeing the offensive stranger over her shoulder, Roman tipped his head a little, his famously limited patience already strained. “So this would probably be a real good time to tell me if you know the creep or somethin'.”