05-27-2020, 12:06 AM
“Ah, Paris,” he mused. Fond memories or not, there was a gleam to Zhenya’s eye when she mentioned the city of love. What else captured her heart while she visited a rain-speckled Paris? Seven smiled with all the appreciation of one who had been there himself: figuratively and literally.
She was a pleasant dancer, if a little restrained for his taste, though he didn’t mind. Seven compensated enough flair for the both of them. “Boredom is the father of mischief,” he spoke the epithet like it was a quote although it was his own. Depth of insight out of Seven usually surprised his company. He typically wore a shallower mantle.
“I only work alone when more gentile company abandons me,” he laughed as he lifted her hands. Her clothing spun on the curl of air, light as a breeze. The lights caught his attention, but the warmth of the dance could not stave the chill flushing the back of his neck. As Zhenya glowed with near perfect radiance, Seven’s tongue loosened on her charms.
“I wouldn’t say I work alone,” the mischief in his own gaze gleamed with a promise he wasn’t going to share. At least, not without a good attempt at equal barter. “In this case, I wouldn’t mind a collaborator. Do you know anyone with experience?” The upward flick of his green gaze roamed from light source to light source before fixing her with the sort of accusatory gleam of co-conspirators that stopped more than one heart in the past.
She was a pleasant dancer, if a little restrained for his taste, though he didn’t mind. Seven compensated enough flair for the both of them. “Boredom is the father of mischief,” he spoke the epithet like it was a quote although it was his own. Depth of insight out of Seven usually surprised his company. He typically wore a shallower mantle.
“I only work alone when more gentile company abandons me,” he laughed as he lifted her hands. Her clothing spun on the curl of air, light as a breeze. The lights caught his attention, but the warmth of the dance could not stave the chill flushing the back of his neck. As Zhenya glowed with near perfect radiance, Seven’s tongue loosened on her charms.
“I wouldn’t say I work alone,” the mischief in his own gaze gleamed with a promise he wasn’t going to share. At least, not without a good attempt at equal barter. “In this case, I wouldn’t mind a collaborator. Do you know anyone with experience?” The upward flick of his green gaze roamed from light source to light source before fixing her with the sort of accusatory gleam of co-conspirators that stopped more than one heart in the past.