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tampered2007-05-11 11:23 pm
lying-obedience.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-05-11 11:23 pm
(no subject)
When; Early to late evening.
Rating; PG [for now]
Characters; Cain Hargreaves [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
misterblackbird] and Agatsuma Soubi [lying_obedience]
Summary; Soubi offers, Cain takes the bait. A simple dinner and maybe something more?
Status; On-going.
Log;
Subtlety was an awkward face tonight.
Nimble fingers had been quick to draw the majority of blond hair behind his head in a loose ponytail, tendrils of it escaping to curve his face as Soubi contemplated plans he had yet to process. The words sounded smooth enough, hardly worth the attention of such persuasion, but… How frivolous and complicated this world seemed to be with his return. Sometimes too easy, as in that moment as he gazed over the contents of a book, wondering what to shape with his hands now that they were not occupied with orders or paint.
Dinner. So elegant, refined.
Much to no one’s surprise, Soubi smiled softly to himself as his hand settled on something worth baiting another over- food begot idiots and lovers in the same breath. Not that he was looking. No, he’d learned what lesson there was to be there. But just the implication had him laughing, pacing, thinking, reaching into one of the cabinets and withdrawing a pan. He still had yet to know this person, words easily rendered, though his expression spoke another story entirely. Soubi wanted to watch that mouth, those eyes.
To understand and grow was his gift as a Fighter. Execution flawless.
And not one to wait, the blond compromised himself with little expectation, hands sliding over a sheathed knife lying on the counter beside the sink. Some things brought the worst memories, memories there was no spell to cure, and it drew a waning smile. His guest had spoken of things, intriguing philosophies he himself had no use for.
But if Cain wanted to see a real butterfly so badly, he’d show him one. Soubi pushed the blade away, waiting.
Rating; PG [for now]
Characters; Cain Hargreaves [
misterblackbird] and Agatsuma Soubi [lying_obedience]Summary; Soubi offers, Cain takes the bait. A simple dinner and maybe something more?
Status; On-going.
Log;
Subtlety was an awkward face tonight.
Nimble fingers had been quick to draw the majority of blond hair behind his head in a loose ponytail, tendrils of it escaping to curve his face as Soubi contemplated plans he had yet to process. The words sounded smooth enough, hardly worth the attention of such persuasion, but… How frivolous and complicated this world seemed to be with his return. Sometimes too easy, as in that moment as he gazed over the contents of a book, wondering what to shape with his hands now that they were not occupied with orders or paint.
Dinner. So elegant, refined.
Much to no one’s surprise, Soubi smiled softly to himself as his hand settled on something worth baiting another over- food begot idiots and lovers in the same breath. Not that he was looking. No, he’d learned what lesson there was to be there. But just the implication had him laughing, pacing, thinking, reaching into one of the cabinets and withdrawing a pan. He still had yet to know this person, words easily rendered, though his expression spoke another story entirely. Soubi wanted to watch that mouth, those eyes.
To understand and grow was his gift as a Fighter. Execution flawless.
And not one to wait, the blond compromised himself with little expectation, hands sliding over a sheathed knife lying on the counter beside the sink. Some things brought the worst memories, memories there was no spell to cure, and it drew a waning smile. His guest had spoken of things, intriguing philosophies he himself had no use for.
But if Cain wanted to see a real butterfly so badly, he’d show him one. Soubi pushed the blade away, waiting.
no subject
He sat at his desk, wasting time, postponing the inevitable. No topcoat tonight, he decided, since the weather had turned so warm. He rested his chin in his palm and frowned into his fingers.
He ought to keep his word, at least. And perhaps it was a chance to eat something other than, well, tea. Perhaps some conversation.
He stopped this thought midstream. There's no such thing as a proper conversation with this person, he thought ruefully.
"Are you free?" he had asked him.
"From them?" Cain had answered. "No. Not really."
And then he'd laughed: free tonight, he'd meant.
Please forgive my egotistical loneliness, sir. And Cain had answered "Yes." No, not just "Yes," but "Yes?"--a bloody question, as if he weren't certain of his own schedule. It wasn't fair to change the topic of conversation so suddenly like that--it's not done. He didn't react like a normal person, Cain decided.
"I'll cook."
With a sigh of frustration, he heaved himself out of his chair.
It had been in those words that the situation had reversed itself--it meant Cain had to go to him. It meant letting the trap close behind him--and one set by a person he hardly knew. And he'd been damnably foolish to agree to it, he knew. Not three days ago Cain had been ready to accuse him of improper advances on a, well, invalid friend and now he was going to have dinner with this same person?
He supposed he looked all right, he thought, straightening his tie in the dusty mirror over the bureau.
Nothing else for it.