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Post by Ash Blackwood on Aug 14, 2017 19:12:06 GMT -5
Now Ash had to fight tears. She was unused to being in such physical discomfort. Beatings she understood, but she had no concept of two willing people not being together. Her sister Lisette was very open, all but bringing men home to meet her family.
Soft, long-fingered white hands smoothed down her stomach as she stepped back, trying to control herself. She had years of practice feigning dull disinterest in the world, and though her eyes were still miserable, the rest of her face went slack. Her posture slid from anxious and needy to soft and malleable.
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Post by Emilian Sota on Aug 14, 2017 19:26:36 GMT -5
"Don't, just-" Emilian started, then cut himself off in frustration at his actions. It shouldn't have gotten this far in the first place. "Just...why don't we meet for drinks or something?" Despite his experience, he'd never actually attempted dating; it simply wasn't something people of his status being raised did. He looked at her, somewhat uncertain if she would even get it. "We could talk more, figure things out...It could be at the Three Broomsticks, or up in my flat, or anywhere." Up in my flat. He could have kicked himself.
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Post by Ash Blackwood on Aug 14, 2017 19:40:42 GMT -5
Ash looked up, curiosity filtering through the dim expression on her face. She didn't understand, not really. He seemed to like her, but he wouldn't take her. He wanted her, but he didn't. "I... I don't know," she said, brows drawing slightly together. She should go home. She should forget this stupid idea. She should just accept her place in the world.
No.
"When?" she asked at last. "Now?"
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Post by Emilian Sota on Aug 14, 2017 20:19:16 GMT -5
Yes, now, five minutes ago, I've got a bed. Emilian gave himself a mental shake. "Tomorrow, give us both time to clear our heads and think things through." Quick, sharp breaths seconds apart made his chest tight and didn't quite feel like breathing at all. Please. He needed to know he had gained some small modicum of control over his years of self-imposed exile within the one put upon him by society.
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Post by Ash Blackwood on Aug 14, 2017 20:34:01 GMT -5
Ash looked away a moment, thinking. Was it worth actually staying at the Inn? He wanted to think. What was the point of thinking? And what was the point of having left the house if she was just going back? She nodded, then turned to leave without another word.
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