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 Posted: Fri Oct 02, 2015 6:06 pm
Top ten list? Desdemona arched a brow at him and gave him a sly smile around the fork between her lips. "Top ten. Do you mean in terms of favorite people, or favorite flavors? - in that case, you'd have to taste me to find out, " she teased in a way that wasn't so much a joke as a hint, hanging heavily in the air between them.
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Posted: Fri Oct 09, 2015 5:38 pm
Emory caught the hint in her voice and a small thrill rushed through his body. "I would, wouldn't I?" he replied, trying to stay cool. Inside he was a jumble of emotions. Desdemona -- Amphitrite was an amazing girl, lost to the corruption process yet so fierce and strong. Again he wondered if she had been like this before corruption -- and he realized it didn't matter. She was who she was now. And what she was now was beautiful and here with him. He wanted desperately to taste her, to feel her lips beneath his and her skin warm and sweet against him. What was stopping him? Absolutely nothing. Rising slightly out of his seat, he leaned across the table for two, his face drawing close to hers, blue eyes meeting hers questioningly, hopefully. Closing the distance between them, he pressed his lips against hers hesitantly, fearing he had misread her intentions.
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Posted: Fri Oct 16, 2015 11:33 pm
She met his questioning gaze with slightly upturned lips, waiting - and really, Desdemona waited for so few things. She liked to take incentive, liked to make it clear what she wanted and how she wanted it.
For him though, she waited, hands resting neatly atop the table, until Emory closed the gap and kissed her.
As far as she could remember, this was her first kiss - and while it warmed her, while it thrilled her, her hand slipping up to curl at the back of his neck, kissing him back easily and without so much as a second thought -
- Leucite and his hand in her chest came to mind. And somehow, while she enjoyed this, it didn't feel as fresh, as new, like she was giving him something that she'd never given anyone else. It didn't feel life-altering, and she wasn't sure whether that was a disappointment or a relief. Disappointment because she knew that she liked Emory, that she enjoyed being around him, that she thought he was attractive. Maybe some part of her had wanted to feel a little girlish and giddy about it, a first kiss, like in movies or on TV.
It was something of a relief, though, that it was just that simple. Because part of her wanted it to be just that, simple. Easy. For the small part of her that almost wanted to be girlish, to be able to feel her age again, a larger part of her wanted no part in it.
She was a woman, not a girl. And while she wanted this, she did not want to be blinded by it. There was too much to do, too much to see, too much she still wanted to do.
When the kiss ended, she held on, even if they were in the midst of a restaurant. "We should do that again."
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Posted: Wed Oct 21, 2015 2:00 pm
As she responded to him with warmth and enthusiasm Emory kissed her with more confidence. This wasn't his first kiss by any means; he'd kissed many a girl in both high school and college. But this one meant something more than most of those had. Desdemona was special, she was a vibrant, lovely young woman despite the cost of her corruption and every bit his equal and then some, especially as Amphitrite. That was exciting to him, and he leaned in a little further, kissing her with even more delight. She slid her hand up around his neck, and that sent such a thrill through him that he made a soft noise against her mouth. Balancing his upper body over the table with one arm, he moved the other against the tablecloth to take her free hand in his. The kiss ended as spontaneously as it had begun, and Emory gazed at Desdemona, blue eyes half-lidded and sated. "Yes, we should," he replied in a low murmur. That was dessert, even before they had finished dinner. He reluctantly sat back down, aware of the eyes from some of the other tables on them. He didn't care what anyone thought, really -- neither Chrysotile nor Amphitrite cared what civilians thought. They weren't putting on a show for them. His hand remained entwined with hers, squeezing her fingers gently. "Um, we could always get the rest of our dinners to go…"
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Posted: Mon Oct 26, 2015 4:14 am
Wasn't she, though?
Desdemona - Amphitrite - was coming to realize that she rather didn't mind eyes on her. It just meant that she was something worth looking at. Not that she did not think she had value; no, that couldn't be further from the truth. She didn't gather validation from the eyes that sought her out, because she knew she was good enough, now more than ever.
But she liked knowing she had that kind of power. Something she'd had none of back when she'd been tied to that chair, crying and begging for death.
It was for that reason, too, aside from her like for Emory that she drew a sense of satisfaction from the slow way he sat back down again. But not for long. His fingers wrapped around hers, and then there it was - a suggestion, an insinuation.
For a moment, she felt the faintest prickle of nerves at where that might take them - and it thrilled her to feel something like that - but she'd hardly recognized it before it was gone again. "I thought you'd never ask," she purred, as though the idea had always been her own.
tatterpixie Maybe drawing to a wrap/possibly a fade???
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Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2015 4:31 pm
Emory smiled at her answer, his heart racing in anticipation of where the evening might end up. He'd never been with a girl so forward and sure of herself as Desdemona -- no, Amphitrite -- was. And he could only think of her as Amphitrite now. Desdemona was a mask, a persona adopted for the sole purpose of moving in the civilian world. A puppet for the benefit of those they were far superior to. Amphitrite was the real girl, just as he was truly Chrysotile. The dark thoughts in his mind about her loss of personality during her corruption all but vanished. It was like she had been reborn as this amazing, powerful young woman who had come out the other side stronger and better than before. Not that he knew who she had been before, despite how painfully familiar she seemed to him. She was here, now, as who she was. The past didn't matter any longer. "Well then." He signaled for the waiter to come collect their plates. "The only question that remains is where do we want to go? Back to your place, or mine?" He wasn't going to mention yet that he still lived with his mom and little sister. "Or neutral ground?" frayedflower Fade to black/wrap sounds like a plan to me! ^___^ maybe in a post or two?
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Posted: Tue Nov 10, 2015 2:55 am
Desdemona arched a brow and smiled. "Neutral ground? What constitutes 'neutral ground'? - that could be anything from a hotel to a bathroom stall you know, " she teased propping her chin on her hands and flashing him a smile that was positively fiendish. "Really, inquiring minds want to know - I almost want to tell you to surprise me handsome."
She winked playfully at him. "My apartment. Elle's gone, so it's just me now. It's a little lonely anyway." Maybe simply kissing was just too little, too light - not that it was bad by any means, but - anything more than that, she didn't know that she'd done it before or not. Maybe this would do something, mean something more.
Really, only one way to know for sure.
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Posted: Sat Nov 14, 2015 9:24 am
Emory felt his stomach flipflop. Had he just blown everything? Stupid stupid stupid. "Hotel," he quickly answered with what he hoped was a confident, suave expression. "And it would be the best hotel in town, too. Only the best for you." He hoped that would be enough to repair any damage his stupid off-hand remark had done. But it seemed that no damage had been done at all, much to his relief. In fact, Desdemona's playful wink and matter-of-fact statement about her apartment only served to further encourage him. "Oh, really?" he purred. "All empty and lonely. We'll have to fix that, won't we?" At least for tonight. He could feel the anticipation rising inside him. This was an evening full of promise, and hopefully something more. The waiter returned with their dinners all packaged up to go, and the check. Reaching into his pocket, Emory pulled out his wallet and laid a few 20s on the table to cover the bill and tip. He then stood and offered his hand to Desdemona. "Shall we?"
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