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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on May 8, 2007 16:10:19 GMT -5
"I'm fine," I said, giving him a smile that was only partially forced. It wasn't To-Bikos fault by any means, and I wouldn't take out any of my confusion on him. "Is Gillermo alright? He... left so quickly..."
My voice faltered slightly as I didn't know what to say; had I hurt Gillermo by backing away? I hadn't mean to, truly, though I couldn't help but fret about it. With a small sigh I looked up to To-Biko, trying to read the emotions on his impassive face through the dim night light.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on May 8, 2007 17:02:46 GMT -5
I couldn't here much of their conversation, but it seemed Mirielle had expressed somekind of concern for my well-being, and my teeth clenched in muted protest when To-Biko's big heart betrayed. He might have opened his arms to her or taken her hand, some gesture of solace, for there was a moment of silence. But then I heard him say "Don't worry about him, My Lady Mirielle. He will be fine. You are the one we are worried about."
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on May 8, 2007 22:16:42 GMT -5
I was more surprised when To-Biko unfolded one great arm for me than I was when Gillermo had done it, though I stepped willingly to him this time... It was different than the last, for I truly was unsure of Gillermos base intent. Did he want me? At times I thought so, but others I wasn't sure, and I found myself lost in the dark, fumbling.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly, laying my head against his chest as he folded me inward. "I'm fine, really. I think Gillermo may not appreciate me right now is all." May not? I didn't think he did, period, and I couldn't blame him. Still, as much as it galled to admit it it had hurt a little when he'd simply walked away and left me, and my head wouldn't let me forget it.
"Perhaps it would be best if I simply said my goodbye," I said, glancing up to his kind face. "No matter what the outcome, I owe him that."
And it was that we two both made our way back into the Generous Patron, To-Bikos arm at his side once more, and I with my posture straight and chin level. I was ready to see him, though I feared my eyes belied my confident facade, and after a quick look around I spotted him leaning against the wall. To-Biko melted away and I stood alone, glancing at Gillermo quietly.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on May 9, 2007 1:10:26 GMT -5
I hadn't heard anymore, and had allowed my mind to reel a little with the impressions of the night.
It was too much, too fast. Mirielle was everything I should hope for, innocent yet mature, smart and witty, generous and beutiful. Asherat's Oracle had not promised such torture upon my last visit, I thought angrily. I wanted her, and I knew she wanted me, yet I felt myself untamed and dangerous, my urges too powerful perhaps to control, my need too complex to describe.
She stood in from of me, and I leaned against the wall still, tempering my urge to ravage her, to take her lips onto mine, to grab her and pull her close, and maybe take her right there, right now. I liked her too much to treat her like regular brawl. She deserved better than me.
I did not move closer to her, for fear that I might act despite myself. My eyes afficted to hers, the only expression of my intense emotions, I welcomed her, mirth my disguise as often it was.
"You're back. Good. I was getting worried for the thugs of the City, Mirielle."
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on May 9, 2007 8:37:52 GMT -5
He simply stood where he was, leaning against the wall as if he hadn't a care in the world, and I standing in the middle of the floor alone. My arms hung motionless at my sides as I looked to him, trying to figure him out, my pride rooting me to the spot. I wouldn't go to him, not when he left me alone and sent his man out in his stead. No, no. Still, even through that I knew was the one who stepped away from him, and my inner conflict battled - he was perhaps hurt by it, and if he was it was my fault. Would I do things differently? I didn't know; probably not, merely because I couldn't figure Gillermo out and I did not like risking things of such caliber when the stakes are so high. No... I had to be sure, one way or another.
"Thier shins are well and intact," I said in return to him, my voice steadier than I had hoped for, my eyes boldly meeting his.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on May 9, 2007 9:44:47 GMT -5
I held her gaze for a moment, but her boldness made me waver and I looked down. She didn't want me any closer, and it was the safe way. For all I knew, if she came any closer, I'd break down and make fools of us. For all I knew, I'd take an uncanny and unreasonnable risk if I smelled her scent as I had under the stars.
I smiled a faint smile. "I really want to apologize, Mirielle. I was brash, and ungentlemanly. I hope you can forgive me."
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on May 9, 2007 10:02:49 GMT -5
He was apologizing? My lips parted in surprise as I looked at him, my boldness melting away the wake of my surprise. "There's nothing to apologize for," I said softly, my fingers no longer simply hanging motionless, but beginning to fiddle with the cloth of my skirt covering my hips. "I moved first... you simply reacted to it."
My voice had softened considerably by the time the last word fell from my lips, and I turned my gaze away, knowing I did cause the start of it, but at the same time also willing to acknowledge that I wouldn't change it. I didn't blame him for coming to me now, and my lip was caught between my teeth again, wondering what I should do.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on May 9, 2007 10:19:10 GMT -5
I faint smile widened a bit. I didn't want to drive her away, but to keep her safe from me. It didn't mean I wanted her at such a safe distance I wouldn't see her, or dance with her again. My body quickened at that last thought.
"I don't resent you for it, Mirielle, not at all," I replied. "I only hope you will still wish to dance with me at the fete."
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on May 9, 2007 10:26:49 GMT -5
Gods, Gillermo was going to drive me to drink... And in all good honesty, that idea was sounding more and more appealing as these painful moments stretched on. He fled from me outside, gave me brotherly kisses, and flirted with me as if...
Ah.
Pity. Was that it? Was I coming across so horribly that he was flirting with me to make me feel better, to boost my confidence? My pride swelled in me again, and I lifted my gaze, my lip untucking from between my teeth. He'd have his dance at the fete if he wanted it, but I'd not remind him of it. I wouldn't remind him of anything along those lines infact, for I didn't need pity.
"Its yours," I said, my voice still quiet and borederline friendly, though I swallowed after speaking. "If you want it when the time comes, it's yours." The bar called to me and I looked at him, my expression fairly calm, though pride and a touch of pain tinged it. "I think I need a drink," I said, moving to the bar, voicing for a shot of whiskey once I'd reached it.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on May 9, 2007 10:50:16 GMT -5
If I wanted it when the time comes? Asherat ! I wanted it now !
My body stayed of marble as I watched Mirielle walk to the bar, and the sight of her graceful hips got the better of me, as hypnotizing as an Akkadian dancer's seductive moves. As though in a trance, I followed her, my body merely answering the call of hers.
When I saw her order the shot of Eiran spirit, my blood quickened, and in a short moment I was at her side, stopping her, my hand on her arm.
"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice full of concern, but also holding more authority then I intended it to.
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on May 9, 2007 10:57:05 GMT -5
Brotherly affection before, and a brotherly dominance now. "Getting a drink," I said simply, my heart beating harder; Elua he was beautiful. His hand on my arm was ignored as I refused to react to it, though my skin burned under the feel of his flesh upon mine, and it was all I could do to push away thoughts of laying under tousled sheets of white linen, making love as the sun rose around us. A shiver ran through my body, my free hand reaching out to take the shot as it was delivered. "Did you want one as well?" I asked, my voice forceably level, my cheeks flush.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on May 9, 2007 11:08:47 GMT -5
I had to blink to wash away visions of her pouty lips, gasping in sweet surrender. It would have been so easy. My body was so close, and her smell overwhelmed me. Under my hand, her skin was soft and supple, the stuff of Ch'nese silks, and it took me all my resistance not to embrace her and whisk her in one of those rooms I knew loomed above our head.
I took a deep breath, and leaning a little away from her, I replied, "Now I do."
A safe distance from her intoxicating grace, yet close enough that it radiated into me, I gestured to the innkeep to give me a whiskey as well, my nonchalant sway of the hand the symbol of my frustration.
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on May 9, 2007 11:16:56 GMT -5
I wanted to hiss in absolute frustration, but rather than giving into temptation I merely brought the glass to my lips without waiting for his to be delivered, tossing the fiery liquid back through my mouth, swallowing it even as it began to touch my tongue. He expressed concern, his eyes burned when they looked at mine, and then he leaned away again. I couldn't help but cough when the whiskey slid down my throat and into my belly, raising one hand to stifle it, my eyes brimming with tears - though what those stemmed from I was unsure. I'd blame it on the whiskey.
Gingerly wiping them away I watched as the barkeep delivered Gillermos shot, giving the two of us an incredious look. I simply stared back at him, unwilling to look at the half d'Angeline next to me, fearing my eyes would give away the want I had for him.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on May 9, 2007 11:54:31 GMT -5
I had stifled my instinct to move in and pat her back when she nearly choked herself with the whiskey. She might not want the help, I'd realized.
The barkeep set a shot of Whiskey before me, and I downed, tussling it between my cheeks a short moment before I swallowed the burning liquid. I set the glass down lightly. The horrible liquor settled me, and the simple gesture gave me contenance, but Mirielle was looking away, and it ached. Consequently, I resented her for it, and for hurting herself.
I opened my mouth to ask her what prompted the gesture, and (it must have been the liquor) instead, told her a bit dryly, "You should stick to fine wines, Mirielle. Low brawl Eiran liquor does not become you."
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on May 9, 2007 12:12:03 GMT -5
I prickled.
After it all, he was chastising me for the liquor I chose to drink? My gaze turned from the barkeeps and to Gillermos, gesturing offhandedly to the man behind the counter to serve me another. "And I think, Lord Stregazza, you should cease with games, for you are confusing me to the point of utter exhaustion."
My drink was served and I took it, my eyes remaining upon Gillermos, tossing it back without looking at it. A second time I coughed, though I refused to acknowledge it more than covering my mouth. "I do believe it's time for me to leave." Images of him laying atop me in the faint moonlight danced before my eyes, and I gasped softly with it. Gods I ached for him, and I knew he could see it in my face, though I was beyond the point of caring at this moment. Tomorrow I would regret it, but for now it didn't matter. With a deep curtsy for him I turned and exited the tavern, my chin high and my shoulders square.
Damn the gods to hell for this night, and damn my body for yearing for his touch. Damn myself as well, for apparently being unable to gain what I wanted.
Strangely, though, I didn't damn him... not in the slightest. The cool air met my face, and I looked about for a stablehand to bring about a rented carriage.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on May 9, 2007 12:57:03 GMT -5
I'd looked at Mirielle in disbelief as she broke out in unbridled confusion, her words those of a hurt lady, her actions ressembling the low brawl I usually had for dinner.
When she curtsied, I bowed back, and as she left, To-Biko instinctively had followed suit, for he knew I would not want her unprotected.
Alone at the bar, I reflected. She wanted me, it was evident, just as it was clear she had not grasped how dangerous my desire for her could be, that, or my affection, for I had fallen hard and fast for the feisty and proud D'Angeline. But I was not ready to be pulled into such passions. Not now, maybe not ever.
The thought of being away from her was unbearable though, and I promised myself I would at least claim my due. I would dance with her at the Coronation fete, if it took all the charms of Naamah's servants to convince her.
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on May 9, 2007 13:09:42 GMT -5
The door opened and shut behind me, and I knew without looking that it was To-Biko and not Gillermo. He'd not spoken, simply bowed to me, and that told me quite enough. Forcing my voice gentle as I asked a young stable lad to bring about a carriage to rent home, I glanced up wordlessly at To-Bikos great figure. "I'm sorry, To-Biko," I said quietly, reaching out to catch his hand up with mine. "Truly."
The carriage rolled around promptly, and I tugged down on his hand enough to make him bend at the waist. Leaning up on tip-toe I kissed his cheek, then climbed into the carriage. His form was the last thing I saw before I shut my eyes, willing away thoughts of Gillermos body pressed against mine.
The carriage rocked beneath me as it headed down the path out of the Generous Patron, bearing me home.
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Post by Gillermo Stregazza on May 9, 2007 13:25:03 GMT -5
I'd downed a third whiskey by the time To-Biko came back. He settled by my side, leaning on the bar. "Congratulations, Serenissiman brat. You let her go. Brilliant."
I looked at him with loathsome eyes. "Well all the better for you then. You can have her if you like," I replied. "Besides, you went after her fast enough." The liquor clouded my vision.
To-Biko cursed in ancient Jebean, for the third time in all these years. "She wanted you, she is all you've been describing to me for all these years, and you'd think I'd be mad enough to pursue her? Gillermo, you are a fool."
His curse cleared the ethylic blur in my mind. I sat at the neighbouring table, my balance shifting. "You are right, old friend, and I'm sorry. I am a fool."
He put his hand on my shoulder, ever the Perfect Companion. "My Lord, let's go home. Lady Cascata will be worried."
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