#( 𝔦. ) ⎯⎯ ◟ 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗶𝗹‚ 𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗱𝗲 : rhapsodized.
𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. the midnight sun.
𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜. open.
godless ground was never meant to play home to something quite so profound ⎯⎯ club offered as 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, & no amount of aged amber can DROWN the strange taste it leaves. she - devil knows he’s trying : moment of quietude finds aristide at the bar, pensive when he gazes into bourbon. ( knows he’s not alone, doesn’t seem to mind. ) silence is comfortable until he’s nudging emptied glass forward : ❝ one more, for 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 of us. on the house. ❞ finally, torso shifts / all elegant ripples & defined lines, something almost apologetic flittering at the edges. ❝ a rough day always calls for a drink. ❞
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𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. ari's place.
𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜. closed, to @vilebit & song jieun.
sunlight is buttery, placid when it filters through ; sheets are soaked in it, but he makes no attempt to so much as lift his head. no, he’d much rather graze obeisant fingertips across planes of 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 / she, the still point in a universe that turns too quickly at the best of times. ( first thought, when st. michael’s delirium had parted : if anyone has so much as laid a finger on her, i’ll rip this universe & the next apart. ) ❝ are you SURE you can’t call in sick today ? tell jean - paul that you’ve come down with an awful, incurable illness & that you 𝘩𝑎𝑣𝑒 to stay in bed all day. i’m sure he’ll understand. ❞ aftermath of it all has left him 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 : lips linger at her collarbone, kisses pressed like punctuation to voracious thought. ❝ stay with me, instead. ❞
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𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. his personal booth, the midnight sun.
𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜. closed, to @vilebit & song jieun.
& what’s the saying ⎯⎯ ask, & you shall receive ? be careful what you wish for ? dulcet tones had enquired, so he’d delivered ⎯⎯ the midnight sun entices at the best of times, but attention is so thoroughly fixated elsewhere he doesn’t notice. ( a switch flipped, ambiances twisted / with the comfort of his territory comes a NEW confidence, epitome of 𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑. ) ❝ are we living up to your wildest expectations, jolie ? ❞ langorous sibilations against her ear, outrageous proximity a necessity when speakers thump with basslines that crawl right between bones & 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞. away from that infernal office, no concerted effort is made to keep his hands to himself : fingertips make 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 of grazing whatever delicate skin is exposed, inside of birdbone wrist / elegant slope of her neck / paced, slow, teasing. ❝ we’re not quite the 𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐘 we’re always made out to be. ❞ not unless asked, of course, & how he hopes she’ll do exactly that !
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𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. saints hq, front office.
𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜. closed, to @vilebit & song jieun.
call it routine, call it habit, a rose by any other name : shameless flirtation doesn’t 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 simply because it's branded something else. ( & fucking AUDACIOUS it is, the delight that rebounds when he earns bright smile, coral blush, dependency made flesh ; something just a little sickening about it, this affection. ) ❝ bonjour, ma chérie. tu es aussi brillant que le soleil lui-même, et trois fois plus beau. ❞ 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 with gifts, & he rarely comes empty - handed anymore ⎯⎯ rather, one blisteringly warm takeaway cup is deposited atop her desk, just the way she likes ; as if he’d ever 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 to forget it. ❝ i suppose the boss is in already, hm ? or do i have the absolute honour of your company for a little longer ? ❞
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𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. aristide's office, the midnight sun lounge. upstairs.
𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜. closed, to : @godswoe & magdalene coppola.
before preternaturally - straight spine even twists, he knows that it’s magda who crosses office threshold. ( well - versed in 𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜 click of familiar stilettos / vintage merlot displaces the twist of paled mouth into something akin to a fond smirk. oh, isn’t there something to be said for enmity curdled something low & wanting in the pit of stomach that should’ve grown 𝚃𝙸𝚁𝙴𝙳 of it ? ) ❝ if it isn’t my ruby. ❞ resonant purr peals across otherwise comfortable silence, inflected with a mocking tone that could almost read bizarrely affectionate. ❝ i wasn’t AWARE i was going to granted the . . . pleasure of your company this evening. ❞
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𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. aristide's office, the midnight sun lounge.
𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜. closed, to @bludluna & raffaello torrigiani.
a split - second, that’s all it takes. glacial hues meet obsidian counterparts, raffaello’s splenetic rage in direct opposition to aristide’s staid calm ; not a conversation to be had in 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎 of booths. no time is wasted, then, in plucking EYEWATERINGLY expensive bottle of scotch & two glasses off a shelf. ( crystal glitters, reflects 𝖽𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾𝖽 light & sends it dancing into the darkest corners, almost too beautiful for what lies at hand. ) old hand with vehement tempers, he hasn’t spent centuries not to be able to recognise the tells of a 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐒𝐓 : it’s not unkind when he presses a tumbler into raffaello’s hands, directs him into his office. ❝ bere. you look like you’ve seen a ghost. ❞
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𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚝, + jieun song.
tangled sheets + the remnants of the last summer sunset, record player thrumming the beat to la vie en rose ; the most romantic love song of the last century even unmatched when pitted against the look of love shared between the two. home is found in the most unlikely of places. fitting perfectly when embraced in the arms of her beloved, snort accompanying an amused eyeroll. “ oh, yeah, jack the ripper ? ” with any other companion, fear would have struck & sent her running. a fawn finding comfort in the embrace of a predator — sunken marks on the nape of her neck a testament to just how easily the demise of a poor soul will be at his hands & yet, she's nothing but all smiles. she's starting to get used to the bite of the nip, finding euphoria in letting go. anything for him. propping bird bones up on elbow, lips nearing his as a smirk mimics the one he often sports. she's picked up a few habits. “ what are you waiting for ? maybe i'd be a good sookie to your eric, ” lacquered digits trace his burgundy-soaked lips, pearly whites nipping into her own. “ or d'you just fancy me as your good little bloodbag ? ”
new favourite location, raveled up in sheets that bear traces of her perfume + shampoo alike / mother tongue croons distantly, 𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗂𝖺𝖿 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 : since when did he repent enough to find this brand of heaven ? digits & petals are a fatuous graze across vellum, mapping well - charted territory over, over, over again. ( touch settles on the small of her back, kisses alight at collarbone, 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔, an incessant trail. ) ❝ who keeps telling you i’m jack the ripper ? i covered that one up well, thank you very much. ❞ lush chuckle practically dripped against her own bitten petals, NO purview left between them. not when he dips in, steals another fleeting kiss. ❝ d’you want eternity with me, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ? like this ? ❞ permission, that’s how he operates this whole thing. all she has to do is ASK, + he’ll craft infinitude into bones he’s found home in, make her his in a whole new way. he’s picky like that ⎯⎯ not 𝘀𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗵 he extends to just anyone. oh, how special she is ! until then ... ❝ yeah, well. not my fault you’re so fucking DELICIOUS. so sweet, all mine. ❞ ( not a lie : her cruor is still nectarous against the backs of his teeth, craving sated + destined to rise again. )
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𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. la piéta church, st. michael's day.
𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜. closed, to @ephemvrae & adela drahos.
❝ looks like you need this more than i do. ❞ comes bearing gifts, gaudy crystal & placid kiss to feline cheek / 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝, no comfort like the one he finds in her company. perhaps this familial closeness is simply the product of so many years of exposure, jocund quips traded back & forth ; maybe it’s just a fondness, marrow - deep. everlasting. ❝ honestly, this whole fucking thing feels like a charade. if i wanted to see a bunch of clowns, i’d have gone to the circus. ❞ ( speaking, obviously, of the 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐲𝐞 of the commission, of politicians flirting empty promises while knee - deep in two 𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪 graves. ) ❝ dis-moi que tu viens à france quand tout sera fini ... nous méritons une pause. ❞
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