|Estella Rosier bites. (pipscreech) wrote in wished,|
@ 2010-01-29 18:20:00
|Entry tags:||!1998: 01, !complete, estella rosier|
Who: Estella Rosier and Declan McManus
When: Friday evening, the 29th
“Let me buy you another drink.”
The arm of an over-sized sweater, one with fabric clinging to every curve of her body, fell down her shoulder. A small, rueful smile played at her red-painted lips as she did little to fix the wardrobe malfunction. His eyes became fixated on her bare shoulder as she tilted her head to the side. Declan McManus was just two glasses away from becoming completely obliterated. His movements had become shoddy as he fumbled for the galleon in his pocket. She watched him closely as he signaled to the bartender for one more round of firewhiskey. A soft, melodic string of laughter escaped from her lips as she placed her hand gingerly on his knee.
“You’re too kind, Declan,” she told him, her fingers trailing a short line along his lower thigh.
This was too easy. At her mere touch, she could feel his body go rigid and she wondered if she would have to do much more to get him to leave with her. The bartender returned shortly thereafter with two tumblers filled to the top with ice and shots of their drink of choice for that evening. They both reached for their glasses at the same time and as she averted her eyes toward the ground in hopes of appearing flushed, she gave his thigh a small squeeze.
As she returned her gaze toward him she caught his eyes widen in slight surprise.
“A t-toast,” McManus managed as he lifted his glass.
She lifted her glass before raising an eyebrow, “To tonight?”
A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as they clinked their glasses. An eager look and palpable anticipation was emitting from McManus as she watched him slope his head back and take a long and hearty sip. In that moment, she looked the man up and down. He was older, though not quite forty and had a certain rugged charm to his features. A five o’clock shadow and rough hands were a dead giveaway to his job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She hadn’t asked questions in her assignment. The Death Eaters needed McManus and so Estella followed orders. This was hardly a tough assignment for the young girl. Nor would it prove to be a difficult task should she have to get physical. Even through his collared shirt, it was easy to see that the man was fit.
It was a pity, indeed, that she had to do this to him.
McManus finished his drink before Estella even took a sip but the man hardly seemed to notice. A silly, stupid looking grin had appeared on his face. She put her drink back down on the bar before crossing one leg over the other.
“Why don’t we get out of here?”
“Yeah?” He blinked in response.
“I’m afraid this would be much too public a place for what I have in mind for us.”
He stared at her for a moment, a dumb look of confusion flickered across his face before he understood what she meant. Alright, so he wasn’t the smartest of men she’d had to work with, but he seemed harmless enough. She leaned down then, and grabbed her purse from the floor. Once her bag was hanging on her shoulder she leaned toward him so that her lips were not far from his ear. She discreetly clung to her wand in her bag as she whispered, “Imperious.”
Almost immediately, she could sense his body go slack. Smiling broadly, she linked her arm with his before grabbing her cloak from the back of her stool. “Shall we go then, darling?”
It was not a moment later that Estella was escorting McManus out of Shalott and to where she presumed he wouldn’t be seen again.