03-15-2014, 11:30 AM
Spectra found herself presented to the man that caught her eye. Yulian made every effort to brag about his so-called friendship with her. Little did he know he was but another cockroach skittering around her feet. A cockroach she was too disgusted by to soil her shoes to squash.
"Damien,"
her palm was laid lightly across his. She spoke the syllables of his name with a sleepy sort of softness as though testing the mysterious waters with the tip of her toe. She approved very much of what she found.
This was a man of power and confidence. She need not see him stripped bare to appreciate the cut of his demeanor. Amid the stern steel of his gaze was also crowned a regal sort of bearing. She approved greatly.
Mostly because a man like him was already deferring to her presence.
"Tis a pleasure, indeed, señor,"
the bright viridian of her eyes lingered upon his, drinking in their watery orbs. In the low light of Block 1 they dazzled like crystal, and Spectra grew attached quite quickly to the quiet feral of his charm. Mostly due to the ineptitude Yulian presented in comparison to Damien.
But she was paid well to dote upon the foul old man. She forced herself to turn her attentions upon him, and hid the cringe that was to pierce the cloud of his overbearing cologne to get so close to him. The scent spiked visceral memories in the back of her mind: of allies, sweat, filthy paper dollars, and the pain of hair gripped tight from her scalp. But she was an actress of the most talented sort. Yulian would never know the taste of wretched disgust boiling in the back of her throat. She would take his money all the same for it.
She turned back to the man that bought her charms for the night. Their contract was quite clear, and while she leaned into his ear that was of the height of her chest, her eyes remained on Damien. It would be as close as Yulian would come to Spectra's luscious skin. She was no hooker. Not anymore. "It takes a big man to stir the city of Moscow, yes Yulian?"
She spoke as though she'd implied as much in the past. The old man's mouth split into a hungry, wrinkle-lined smile. She went on, "Where did you find so handsome a protégé?"
"Damien,"
her palm was laid lightly across his. She spoke the syllables of his name with a sleepy sort of softness as though testing the mysterious waters with the tip of her toe. She approved very much of what she found.
This was a man of power and confidence. She need not see him stripped bare to appreciate the cut of his demeanor. Amid the stern steel of his gaze was also crowned a regal sort of bearing. She approved greatly.
Mostly because a man like him was already deferring to her presence.
"Tis a pleasure, indeed, señor,"
the bright viridian of her eyes lingered upon his, drinking in their watery orbs. In the low light of Block 1 they dazzled like crystal, and Spectra grew attached quite quickly to the quiet feral of his charm. Mostly due to the ineptitude Yulian presented in comparison to Damien.
But she was paid well to dote upon the foul old man. She forced herself to turn her attentions upon him, and hid the cringe that was to pierce the cloud of his overbearing cologne to get so close to him. The scent spiked visceral memories in the back of her mind: of allies, sweat, filthy paper dollars, and the pain of hair gripped tight from her scalp. But she was an actress of the most talented sort. Yulian would never know the taste of wretched disgust boiling in the back of her throat. She would take his money all the same for it.
She turned back to the man that bought her charms for the night. Their contract was quite clear, and while she leaned into his ear that was of the height of her chest, her eyes remained on Damien. It would be as close as Yulian would come to Spectra's luscious skin. She was no hooker. Not anymore. "It takes a big man to stir the city of Moscow, yes Yulian?"
She spoke as though she'd implied as much in the past. The old man's mouth split into a hungry, wrinkle-lined smile. She went on, "Where did you find so handsome a protégé?"