[ open ] i.

[mahalakshmi]

Comments

[mahalakshmi]

[ He's a menace, dreadful, terrible menace, who has no mercy to her at all, as she watches that elegant curve to the glass of his mouth that is singularly distracting. ]

Because we promised to each other our agreement. And I think - and perhaps it is only presumption speaking - that you do not find me as awful as you thought you might.

[vorrutyer]

[ A slight lift of his eyebrow. ]

I never expected to find you awful.

[mahalakshmi]

[ Her eyebrows lift for that, surprised maybe. ]

What did you expect then?

[vorrutyer]

That you'd be lovely and appealing in every way.

[ A small shrug. ]

Your family is made up of competent merchants, after all. They only offer their finest goods for sale, no?

[mahalakshmi]

[ She smoothes her skirt, settling her self - pretty. Poised. A lady that sits against the wall, her fan in front of her face and waits only for the beck and call of suitors. How she had attempted to be so briefly when they had met until they had stopped - pretending so much, she suspects.

For that, it is only a pretense, how she lowers her eyes, - takes that deep, deep breath of sweetness that makes her chest swell. Demure and presented to be tempting. Like she doesn't know how she looks. Granted, she didn't completely, her own appearance, to be alluring, but - she tries regardless. ]

And? Was I too your liking?

[ Silly little maid, is the tone, or her closest thing she can manage without laughing. Oh, please Byerly, take pity on her. ]

[vorrutyer]

I dare not say anything but yes.

[ He cups a hand against his cheek. ]

I'm afraid of getting slapped again.

[mahalakshmi]

[ and just like that her carefully pretty picture is ruined when she snatches up and flicks him, a scandalized word for that. Still messy, still too open. ]

You are still a wretch.

[vorrutyer]

Ah, I am spared the worst of a physical attack, but she wounds me with her words...

[ He makes a grand show of wincing. ]

How rotten it is to live in fear like this.

[mahalakshmi]

I do not think you are the least bit afraid of me.

[ He plays her too well, for that. She's sure. Half way through being seduced by his teasing as much as his sharpness. Little defense against either, and quickly moved over. She doesn't want him to realise it, not yet, it would not be fair to her. ]

Aren't you supposed to be giving me another drink?

[vorrutyer]

It would be my greatest pleasure to serve you, my terrifying, demanding, intoxicated lady.

[ He tosses back the last of his own drink, stands. ]

Back in a moment. Don't fight anyone while I'm gone.

[mahalakshmi]

I am not - [ But the fit of laughter she bursts into says otherwise when he says don't fight anyone.

Which is fine, until he is gone, and she is a Vor woman sitting at a bar. Quite happily drunk to herself, fiddling with the necklace at her throat in contemplation of her surroundings. Or, not so much to herself, as it turns out when there ends up a drink in front of her, from some other gentleman across the bar and - she mistakes it, as she sips it - Byerly must have sent it, as she goes about sipping it, waiting for him to return. ]

[vorrutyer]

[ He's gone a little while, too - gets caught at the bar by someone he knows, has to confirm that yes, he is engaged, and yes, it is real, and yes, she is rich. By the time he returns, she's had a long while with this drink - which, when he sees that, he frowns uneasily and scans the bar to see where it came from. ]

Couldn't wait?

[mahalakshmi]

[ and in misunderstanding, she looks puzzled. Looking at the drink then up at him. It's had its effect, that warm haziness in her gaze, the numbness of her digits as she taps thumb to forefinger. Shaking her head. ] Was I supposed too? I thought I should start so I did not fall behind.

[vorrutyer]

[ With a small sigh, he slips in next to her, setting down the drink he'd gotten her. The watered-down, weak drink. ]

I fear you have another admirer.

[mahalakshmi]

Oh - [it takes a minute, looking from from the drink he'd gotten her to the one she was sipping at slowly, to what he meant by admirer.

Furious all at once and easy to map as it crosses over her otherwise besotted expression she found herself wearing at him despite herself. Who could be so rude? She pushes up from her seat. Determined, even if as she does she feels everything spin. She is, to a point, quite drunk and true to a vor, inclined to pick a fight with whoever dared insult her Fiance like that. ]

[vorrutyer]

Lakshmi -

[ It's the first time he's called her by her name, without a lady or dear or anything of that ilk in front of it. He sets down the drinks at once, reaching out for her arm and catching her, all vague annoyance (why was he feeling annoyance?) dissipating in the face of her outrage. ]

Don't. Come. Sit. Stop.

[ He pulls her down, trying to get her to sit again. ]

[mahalakshmi]

[ And down, down, down she tumbles - straight into him. A hinge point that hooks and turns her back, landing flat into his lap, pulling back immediately. Not away, just straight up to look at him - that quick hot burst of temper that ever needs an outlet. ]

Why?

[ The insult plain to her. Against him. Against her, too, for that matter. Deserves anything that comes to him for that. Her fingers setting into his shoulders and curling up sharply in the material of Byerly's coat.

Barely registers that at long last, he used her name. ]

[vorrutyer]

Why not?

[ His hands move down to support her and hold her upright. ]

I don't like fighting.

[mahalakshmi]

[ It's improper, to say that least. They aren't married yet - and even so, it's not a display that is fitting for either of their ranks. Even if it is perfectly in line with his reputation.

She'll fix this - after the conversation - she will. She will remove his hands where they settle so neatly against the dip for her waist. She will not want for them to be there. The drink will stop making the suggestions easy. She won't - won't - slide her fingers up to his neck, slide against the short hair at the back of his neck, won't - never - would settle there like it calmed her ire. Never let him think he could content her by doing much at all.

Save that she just did all of those things and that hard line set in her mouth eases some. ]

But he insulted you. He deserves it.

[vorrutyer]

[ His own hands stay proper, though - holding her and nothing more. He doesn't move to encourage her touches. He just shakes his head very slightly. ]

I don't feel insulted. Do you?

[mahalakshmi]

[ He cools her quickly. How steady he is. Adjusts her thumb, there, she thinks, there is his pulse, feels it as her eyes close briefly. Listening to its steady beat against her fingers. Counting them in hums. ]

Perhaps he is blind, and I should not be cross with him.

[vorrutyer]

[ Good. He relaxes a little bit, allows himself a wry little smile. ]

Perhaps. Or perhaps you should feel smug, that the man took a look at you and decided to lay gifts at your feet. I'm sure he's not the first to have that reaction, no?

[mahalakshmi]

The last one that tried, I kicked him.

[ Is the cheerful admission, relaxing into his hold. Still preoccupied with that fine softness of his hair, as she hooks her fingers back and forth against him. Wriggling that little to make sure she stayed put. ]

They stopped after that.

[vorrutyer]

[ Good lord, what a terror she was. ]

Why? Do you not like gifts?

[mahalakshmi]

[ She snickers - twisting back to the glass he had gotten her - and brings it up to sip it slowly. Her eyes meeting his as she makes a show of it - that his gift, his alone would be the gift she accepts. Letting well against her lip before she drinks it deep. ]

I don't like insincere men. They can't dismiss my thoughts, my self, and then act like gold and trinkets is enough for me.