New Page* 12/4/15** | Rated T for non-explicit adult/disturbing themes
"It's alright," she said, though it certainly wasn't. Nothing about this was. She was terribly uncomfortable as she stood there in his embrace, her body still alert and interested, silently and insistently reminding her that he was right there in front of her, ready and willing to finish what he'd started--which she wasn't about to let happen any more than she was about to let Frost go through with his plans to drag Simon and Nadia down into this nightmare.
"I won't try to make them do anything they don't want to do," he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin. "I'm sorry if it sounded like that's what I meant. I wouldn't do that, Sparrow."
"Since when would you not do something like that?"
"Since you've made it clear how much it would upset you. You know I don't want that." He pulled back, and a finger under her chin nudged her face up to look at him. "See how much easier this is when you just let me know what's wrong?"
She brushed his hand away, nodding in acquiescence she didn't feel, and she glanced toward the table. "Is someone going to take care of this?" she asked, waving a hand at the abandoned food.
"Of course. The servants will get it, if German doesn't."
"Then I'd like to... to go to sleep, if that's alright with you." He hesitated, and she felt a stab of apprehension. Was he about to say no? "I've had kind of a rough day."
Immediately, his expression flooded with sympathy, and he gave her another one of those little apologetic smiles; whether or not it was genuine this time, she couldn't tell. "Of course it's alright with me, love. You don't have to ask permission to go to sleep."
That was news to her, she thought as she let him guide her out of the room with a hand placed gently in the small of her back, and she didn't believe it at all. It wasn't that she didn't have to ask permission; it was simply that he got more out of giving it to her than he did out of refusing.
As Sparrow walked back upstairs at his side, retracing her steps from earlier and noting rather pleasedly that she now had the route entirely committed to her memory, she couldn't help her worrying.
*This page does not immediately follow the previous day's page. **The site threw a 500 error 12/3/15; though I wrote that day, I was not able to write anything here.
"It's alright," she said, though it certainly wasn't. Nothing about this was. She was terribly uncomfortable as she stood there in his embrace, her body still alert and interested, silently and insistently reminding her that he was right there in front of her, ready and willing to finish what he'd started--which she wasn't about to let happen any more than she was about to let Frost go through with his plans to drag Simon and Nadia down into this nightmare.
"I won't try to make them do anything they don't want to do," he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin. "I'm sorry if it sounded like that's what I meant. I wouldn't do that, Sparrow."
"Since when would you not do something like that?"
"Since you've made it clear how much it would upset you. You know I don't want that." He pulled back, and a finger under her chin nudged her face up to look at him. "See how much easier this is when you just let me know what's wrong?"
She brushed his hand away, nodding in acquiescence she didn't feel, and she glanced toward the table. "Is someone going to take care of this?" she asked, waving a hand at the abandoned food.
"Of course. The servants will get it, if German doesn't."
"Then I'd like to... to go to sleep, if that's alright with you." He hesitated, and she felt a stab of apprehension. Was he about to say no? "I've had kind of a rough day."
Immediately, his expression flooded with sympathy, and he gave her another one of those little apologetic smiles; whether or not it was genuine this time, she couldn't tell. "Of course it's alright with me, love. You don't have to ask permission to go to sleep."
That was news to her, she thought as she let him guide her out of the room with a hand placed gently in the small of her back, and she didn't believe it at all. It wasn't that she didn't have to ask permission; it was simply that he got more out of giving it to her than he did out of refusing.
As Sparrow walked back upstairs at his side, retracing her steps from earlier and noting rather pleasedly that she now had the route entirely committed to her memory, she couldn't help her worrying.
*This page does not immediately follow the previous day's page. **The site threw a 500 error 12/3/15; though I wrote that day, I was not able to write anything here.
