SOMEWHERE TOO BRIGHT | WAY TO BLOODY EARLY
Thank Hurte for Doris.
Standing, he rapidly blinked away the emotional mess that wanted to spring forth at the simplest of touches, brushing against the body that was far to close with a carefully put on smirk before guiding the willowy albino into the dining room. As the pair ate, or more to the point as Xav ate and Elias fawned, Doris moved around the table removing used cutlery and quietly tending to her master with little things that he clearly took for granted. Brushing lint from his robe, tsking quietly and frowning when he asked for whisky in his coffee and his cigarettes, bringing his glasses and setting them on the table should he require them. All things he missed as he smiled at the Gioran, watching the lips and tongue moving over the pale thumb with a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh.
It was the giggle of course, that hummed through the galdor, his field warming and reaching to encompass the wick with a strong sense of desire.
“Women in power, imagine that. I suppose, given some of the faux pas that happen in this country, maybe its not a bad thing. You have…most definitely been blessed dear.” The tightening of the taller creature’s glamour caused Eli to draw his own back slightly, aware enough even in his high to sense discomfort. Discomfort usually didn’t lead to more delightful, comfortable things.
“Well, you would have to have. I don’t know many Giorans, I know, I said that before…but I do know your culture enough to know that you would not have had an easy time. Am I right? A wick, in a galdori exclusive country, gasp Xav for shame! Did they chase you with pitchforks? I’ve always imagined that might be how it works.” It was insensitive, but then the man knew nothing of the performers past, only that a wick wasn’t welcome in Gior. As the quick fingers snapped around his wrist, Elias gasped, only to grin wickedly at the albino as they almost threatened the galdor with promises of being a lot tougher than they looked. He watched violet stained lips touch his skin with a wistful sort of sound, before biting his lip as his hand was placed quite directly on a tightly clad thigh.
“Well, Xav. I’m not known for backing down from a challenge. If that’s what you’re implying.” Elias breathed, watching his hand as it kneaded the muscle gently and began to creep towards places far more exciting and interesting then knee’s and toes. Leaning forward further in his chair, the inebriated brunette chuckled, eyes flitting to soft purple lips and mouth parting slightly in anticipation.
“Mmm… I’m not Anaxi though. Bastian, my lovely. Born in the beautiful city of Florne and raised by—” The galdor stopped himself, closing his eyes and wetting his lips as he froze in the space between them both. Swallowing hard, he looked away, sitting back and drawing his hand from their thigh.
“I’m sorry I…that…excuse me a moment.” Standing unsteadily, the unstable galdor moved from the table, grabbing his cigarettes and padding with barefeet to cross the room. Taking one from the packet, he tossed the rest in one of the robe pockets, lighting it with a flick of his fingers. This time however, it didn’t work. This time the mona lashed at him with a fierce discipline, annoyed at his blaise casting and overuse of improper technique, causing the galdor to loose his spliff as he pressed his hands to his ears to stop the god awful sound that burst forth. They rang badly, as though he'd stood inside the bells of the church as they were tugged, and the scent of sulfur filled the air. Not a brail, just a nasty backlash, a curt reminder that he was not invincible.
“You..uh..seem to have caught me on a particularly bad day.” Elias muttered shakily as he shook his head, as though to clear it, before looking around for the cigarette. He stumbled, falling back on his behind and laughing as he moved to lay down on the marbled floor.
“Master Mercucianno, your bath…” Henrick said from the doorway of the dining room, unperturbed by the young man’s actions. The brunette sighed, turning his head to look at Xav with a far away grin.
“See? Takes time.” He said, before rolling to his feet with all the grace of a pregnant chrove. Moving back to the table, cigarette long forgotten, Elias looked at the Gioran with a sigh.
“I’m going to wash now, pretty.” He declared, running a hand through his hair and scratching his chin.
“Care to come upstairs?” It was an invitation, but also an out, should Xavier want it. The brunette wanted more of the pale moonlit being, but it was clear he was not in a good frame of mind. There were cracks in his intoxicated armour, and he needed time to plaster them shut again. A warm body in his sheets would certainly be welcomed, but it would be messy and probably entirely unsatisfying.
Still, he was not kicking the wick out. Yet.