06-27-2023, 10:12 PM
She laughed a little. The offer had admittedly been more suggestive than he took it, though the way he looked at her then curled fire and temptation across her skin in such a way she did not think he had entirely misunderstood. Another time she would have thought nothing of leading him off the path, away from the pools of lights and people. The park was large. It was dark. If it was a little cold too, it wouldn’t matter for long. Sultry consideration lingered, but it was the tired way his hand dropped that tempered her, not any sense of propriety. Because it wasn’t just about the spark and thrill, and it was her heart he pulled at when she saw the edges of the mask slipping.
“I remember,” she agreed, retrieving her purse from the table and passing him the coffee, which still felt warm enough through the cup. Of course she remembered, but little inflected her tone. Scars of a night like that might not heal quickly, but they were as invisible in her as the wounds on her wrist healed by Jensen James. She did not let go of his hand as they walked, though she was not usually the type. Her fingers brushed the edges of his knuckles as the music faded behind them. “Punched them into submission, I suppose.”
He nodded, mocking seriousness. "How else do you smash rat zombies into oblivion?"
"Mmhm," she agreed. She gave him a sly, side-eyed look. But how he'd actually injured his hand wasn’t an answer she was ever going to try and prise from him. She knew enough of how he dealt with pain to recognise how often he siphoned it into something physical. Just as she buried things perilously deep. So she changed the subject instead as they wound through the park’s paths. The tease in her was light and open. “So is irresistible and ripped what you imagine I go for?”
"You went for me, so yeah?" Jay flexed the biceps for her in a muscle-man pose, chin angled proud and high a second before checking to see her reaction.
Natalie was genuinely amused for the assessment, though the resultant laugh was dismissive. She was relieved to hear that he was staying in Moscow, though unlikely to admit it. An assignment he felt ill-suited for did not take great pains to guess, but consideration was set aside. She didn’t really want to think about Adrian. Though if he pulled strings for a Dominion he had more resources than she’d given him credit for, or he’d readily admitted to. The need itself did not surprise her to learn though; at the club, he’d been overly interested in the power.
She continued the conversation; talking of everything and nothing as they walked, faintly surprised with how often he fluttered that warm feeling in her chest. Trees receded. Beyond awareness of the people milling around them she doubted Jay was paying much attention to their path, but she wasn’t leading him deeper into the park. Natalie had no idea precisely where the right food truck was, and had no desire to spend the evening searching it out on the pretext that pancakes were what she really wanted. Jay was dead on his feet and unlikely to admit to it; it cut too close to the reasons he drank himself into oblivion in the first place. When was the last time he’d properly eaten? Let alone slept in something other than unconsciousness. But those were the kind of questions he’d only prevaricate on with a joke. So she’d take the choice away.
By the time the park’s sweeping arched entrance came into view she made an offhand explanation for their direction. She glanced up for the whispered confession, half bit her lip, though the playful tease was blatant. “I skipped out before they served the first course, and pancakes aren’t going to cut it. I guess I’ll just have to owe you. They’re really a breakfast food anyway.”
She smirked; didn’t doubt he’d follow.
He didn't even answer to that. Just swallowed and let himself be pulled onward.
On the subway platform Natalie leaned into him, wallet angled so that he could see the screen overtop her head while she scrolled menus. If anyone stared at the incongruous couple they made, she paid zero attention to it. “You want anything in particular?” She had no preferences, and she’d rather order too much than too little. Natalie didn’t keep food in the apartment beyond necessities, and even then she mostly chose to spend no time there.
"Please god let there be -- yep. That. Bacon cheeseburger. Extra bacon. Extra pickles. No onion. Double fries." He could practically hear his stomach growling just thinking about it.
She laughed a little. Such an American answer.
During the journey she told him about the land she’d bought; the building on it that she planned to refurbish and turn into a school. She was up to her eyes in solicitors at the moment if there was anything he needed, though she did not press heavily on the topic. Her old employers had contacted her about an aid position in Indonesia following the tsunami, but she’d declined the opportunity. The clothes were on account of a networking dinner she’d been glad to leave. Ekene was doing well. So was the kitten. She had numerous pictures of the latter, who was a less scrawny furball now.
Jay stared at the picture of the kitten for a while, lips tugged into half a smirk before the image flipped to Ekene. He'd grown. "Knew that kid was something special."
At the apartment block they passed biometric security quickly, though Jay earned a couple of scrutinising glances in the foyer. She was on the top floor. The lights synced automatically when the door opened. The apartment itself was sparse of personal touches, and furnished as nondescriptly as if they’d walked into a lavish catalogue. Natalie had done nothing to it, and it showed few signs of her living here at all. She’d never unpacked what little she brought with her from Africa, nor the things her mother had shipped over from France, which were still in boxes along one wall. Only the piano, which had sheet music propped on the stand and an empty coffee cup on top, showed any indication of use. Wide windows twinkled the cityscape below. Natalie glanced up, passing curious for his reaction, but only because beyond Toma he was the only one who’d ever been in here. Then she plucked the front of his shirt with an arched brow. “If that’s blood it can go straight in the washer.”
His grin was an unconvincing half of a wince. "It's... jam?" then he quickly grew concerned. "Just don't lick it.. Probably should wash it anyway." Then his breath quickened and the smile let it all go.
"Don't lick it," she repeated, mock solemnly, like she wanted to get the instruction right. Her lips flickered a wicked smile, and she wasn’t sure for whom the tease was worse as she insisted on slipping the stolen jacket from his shoulders. Her heart beat furiously and unbidden with the hike in his breath. Natalie hadn’t brought him home just to ravish him. Or not entirely anyway; she never professed to being a saint. And she was deadly serious about the washing. But his grin tested every well-intentioned effort at self-control. “The pants too,” she said, hooking her finger through a belt loop.
[[with Jay]]
“I remember,” she agreed, retrieving her purse from the table and passing him the coffee, which still felt warm enough through the cup. Of course she remembered, but little inflected her tone. Scars of a night like that might not heal quickly, but they were as invisible in her as the wounds on her wrist healed by Jensen James. She did not let go of his hand as they walked, though she was not usually the type. Her fingers brushed the edges of his knuckles as the music faded behind them. “Punched them into submission, I suppose.”
He nodded, mocking seriousness. "How else do you smash rat zombies into oblivion?"
"Mmhm," she agreed. She gave him a sly, side-eyed look. But how he'd actually injured his hand wasn’t an answer she was ever going to try and prise from him. She knew enough of how he dealt with pain to recognise how often he siphoned it into something physical. Just as she buried things perilously deep. So she changed the subject instead as they wound through the park’s paths. The tease in her was light and open. “So is irresistible and ripped what you imagine I go for?”
"You went for me, so yeah?" Jay flexed the biceps for her in a muscle-man pose, chin angled proud and high a second before checking to see her reaction.
Natalie was genuinely amused for the assessment, though the resultant laugh was dismissive. She was relieved to hear that he was staying in Moscow, though unlikely to admit it. An assignment he felt ill-suited for did not take great pains to guess, but consideration was set aside. She didn’t really want to think about Adrian. Though if he pulled strings for a Dominion he had more resources than she’d given him credit for, or he’d readily admitted to. The need itself did not surprise her to learn though; at the club, he’d been overly interested in the power.
She continued the conversation; talking of everything and nothing as they walked, faintly surprised with how often he fluttered that warm feeling in her chest. Trees receded. Beyond awareness of the people milling around them she doubted Jay was paying much attention to their path, but she wasn’t leading him deeper into the park. Natalie had no idea precisely where the right food truck was, and had no desire to spend the evening searching it out on the pretext that pancakes were what she really wanted. Jay was dead on his feet and unlikely to admit to it; it cut too close to the reasons he drank himself into oblivion in the first place. When was the last time he’d properly eaten? Let alone slept in something other than unconsciousness. But those were the kind of questions he’d only prevaricate on with a joke. So she’d take the choice away.
By the time the park’s sweeping arched entrance came into view she made an offhand explanation for their direction. She glanced up for the whispered confession, half bit her lip, though the playful tease was blatant. “I skipped out before they served the first course, and pancakes aren’t going to cut it. I guess I’ll just have to owe you. They’re really a breakfast food anyway.”
She smirked; didn’t doubt he’d follow.
He didn't even answer to that. Just swallowed and let himself be pulled onward.
On the subway platform Natalie leaned into him, wallet angled so that he could see the screen overtop her head while she scrolled menus. If anyone stared at the incongruous couple they made, she paid zero attention to it. “You want anything in particular?” She had no preferences, and she’d rather order too much than too little. Natalie didn’t keep food in the apartment beyond necessities, and even then she mostly chose to spend no time there.
"Please god let there be -- yep. That. Bacon cheeseburger. Extra bacon. Extra pickles. No onion. Double fries." He could practically hear his stomach growling just thinking about it.
She laughed a little. Such an American answer.
During the journey she told him about the land she’d bought; the building on it that she planned to refurbish and turn into a school. She was up to her eyes in solicitors at the moment if there was anything he needed, though she did not press heavily on the topic. Her old employers had contacted her about an aid position in Indonesia following the tsunami, but she’d declined the opportunity. The clothes were on account of a networking dinner she’d been glad to leave. Ekene was doing well. So was the kitten. She had numerous pictures of the latter, who was a less scrawny furball now.
Jay stared at the picture of the kitten for a while, lips tugged into half a smirk before the image flipped to Ekene. He'd grown. "Knew that kid was something special."
At the apartment block they passed biometric security quickly, though Jay earned a couple of scrutinising glances in the foyer. She was on the top floor. The lights synced automatically when the door opened. The apartment itself was sparse of personal touches, and furnished as nondescriptly as if they’d walked into a lavish catalogue. Natalie had done nothing to it, and it showed few signs of her living here at all. She’d never unpacked what little she brought with her from Africa, nor the things her mother had shipped over from France, which were still in boxes along one wall. Only the piano, which had sheet music propped on the stand and an empty coffee cup on top, showed any indication of use. Wide windows twinkled the cityscape below. Natalie glanced up, passing curious for his reaction, but only because beyond Toma he was the only one who’d ever been in here. Then she plucked the front of his shirt with an arched brow. “If that’s blood it can go straight in the washer.”
His grin was an unconvincing half of a wince. "It's... jam?" then he quickly grew concerned. "Just don't lick it.. Probably should wash it anyway." Then his breath quickened and the smile let it all go.
"Don't lick it," she repeated, mock solemnly, like she wanted to get the instruction right. Her lips flickered a wicked smile, and she wasn’t sure for whom the tease was worse as she insisted on slipping the stolen jacket from his shoulders. Her heart beat furiously and unbidden with the hike in his breath. Natalie hadn’t brought him home just to ravish him. Or not entirely anyway; she never professed to being a saint. And she was deadly serious about the washing. But his grin tested every well-intentioned effort at self-control. “The pants too,” she said, hooking her finger through a belt loop.
[[with Jay]]