Romilda Vane (so_vane) wrote in contentious, @ 2008-10-16 18:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | * complete, romilda vane, royden poke |
Who: Romilda Vane and Royden Poke
Where: The Gilded Lily (A Posh Sort of Wine Bar/Hunting Grounds)
When: Thursday October 16, 2001
What: Romilda and Royden meet for that drink. Run, girl, run!
Rating: PG-13
Warning: General Creepiness.
Status: Public to Semi Private.
Romilda leaned back against the bar and surveyed the room as she sipped her glass of wine. The Lily was crowded on a weekend night, but tonight was a Thursday and it was a bit sparse. Which was probably why Royden wanted to meet her here. She'd remembered he really didn't like crowds. She still wasn't sure why she was here, kind of like she'd never been sure how they'd hooked up in the first place, but he was charming and sweet, and he paid her very keen attention when they were together, even if he did have a rather scary temper the few times they'd gotten into it. It was on again and off again and it was... good? Of a sort, when it worked. At least she thought so. At least it was a distraction just now from the very obvious realization that no one else wanted her. She just didn't understand. She was sexy, wasn't she? And she could be nice. Sometimes.
Her lips pressed together in thought, and she crossed one long leg over the other as she looked over the people congregated in the bar. There was a man doing some sort of art show with coloured lights and musical notes that looked incredibly boring. And Royden was running a bit behind.
Escaping from the house he kept with Mrs. Poke was, for some inexplicable reason, more difficult than it was most nights. It wasn't that she'd insisted on knowing where he was going - no, she'd never do that - it was just that she'd kept him busy with incessant chatter about how they were to be making an appearance at something. And this had turned into an arguement regarding his utter lack of interest in whatever that something was. Which led to a broken plate.
And he was refusing to take the blame for that one - it fell out of her slippery hands, the stupid cunt.
Apparating to the The Lily, Royden took care to avoid meeting the eyes of the men outside - wanting to ensure his persona was in check. He spotted Romilda at the bar easily enough. Once he'd become familiarised with her appearence a few years ago when they'd first met, he found it easy to locate her anywhere. There was something predatorial in this talent... Habit... Ability.
There was something predatorial about Royden as a whole, but he took the pains to not show it.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he said quitely, stopping in front of her and lowering his gaze to meet hers - slip down to appreciate the sexiness of her flesh - and then right back up again. He smiled. "You look lovely."
Romilda saw him as he came in and smiled before her features were schooled into something a bit more sedate, but when he came and stood in front of her, eyes meeting hers, her lips curved up in a smile again. It was odd that someone you hadn't seen in a year could still make you react in the same way.
"Don't I always," she teased, putting her glass down and leaning up to kiss him on the cheek in proper greeting. "You look good too. Quite dapper in that coat." She pulled back and regarded him again. There was always something awkward about Royden, but sometimes, when he was unguarded, during sex, for example, it slipped away and became something else that she quite liked, something much more aggressive and controlled.
One eyebrow went up and she touched his arm with her fingers. "So. You want to stay at the bar or find a quiet table?" She was already pretty certain what his answer would be.
The compliment actually didn't do anything for him - he wasn't a vain man as to want to be told just how physically attractive he was. That wasn't what he needed to hear. But he deepened his smile nonetheless. "Thank you," he returned glancing away for a brief moment, as though he was mildly embarrassed to be told he looked 'quite dapper' at all. But his eyes would not stay away for long.
He felt her fingers lightly on his arm - no real significant weight, just a flirtatious touch. It was a good moment to return to regarding her. "Quiet table," he replied without much hesitation and a smidgen of anxiousness. That part, for once, was real. Crowds did not suit Royden, persona or no.
She waited until he had a drink too and they went over and secured a table in the back. It was a corner booth and she slid in beside him, eyes going to him again as she smiled. It had been a shite week and really, Royden was one of those people that, usually, would make her feel better about any given situation. Well, unless he was upset with her.
"So. How has Royden been?" she asked. "Keeping yourself busy?"
"I haven't had much of a choice in that," he 'admitted' once they were both seated. In truth, all of his overworking was his own damned fault. Had he not encouraged his Goblin friends, life would be a whole lot less stressful for him as a whole. Sometimes he pondered if he created more work for himself because he was truly a masochistic Hufflepuff after all.
But, no. Staying in his head like this too long was a bad idea for conversation. And he was going to have to converse if he was to get what he wanted. "And Romilda? How has the lovely Romilda been, aside from bagels and good sex?" He ducked his head and glanced away, as though he was embarrassed by the sudden boldness of merely speaking the latter part of that question.
Merlin, this was easy.
She gave him a little look. As if they hadn't slept together before. "Danishes," she said a bit archly and finished her wine. "And I'm... good. Glad to be back in England. Sweden was cold and full of Swedes." Her lips turned up at the corners and she moved a little closer to him in the booth.
"Glad to have a job," she admitted. "Catching up with acquaintances." She smirked a bit at that. "Entertaining myself."
"Danishes," he agreed, allowing her to correct him and trying not to smirk as she shifted a little closer to her. "So you missed the English, did you?"
"Terribly." Her eyes lit on him and she smiled again. "Some of them in particular." There was something she liked about Royden, she just wasn't certain exactly what it was. He wasn't the type of man she normally went for, but... she felt better around him. Prettier. Wittier. Something.
Her fingers brushed the back of his hand. "Did the English miss me, do you think?"
She made complimenting her so easy, Royden decided for the umpteenth time. He knew where her insecurities lay - he'd been quick to pick them out the first time. He smiled back at her, meeting her eyes before flickering down to their hands. Her touch was evoking something in him, a desire to return the flirtation to see if he could get the prize her wanted most after all. He turned his hand over and caught her fingers in the light grasp of his own.
"Some in particular," he echoed with a small smirk. "But you know that already."
There was something so sincere about him. Most men saying something like that it would be a lie, and maybe it was and she was just fooling himself, but she really wanted to believe he had missed her.
His fingers interlaced with hers and she felt her skin warm as his thumb brushed along the side of her hand.
"You might have said something about that," she said quietly. She wasn't sure how they kept coming back together. Why he wanted to or why she wanted to. But it was always fun at the beginning.
"So, how much did you miss me?" Eyes on him, she moved just a little closer, until her leg was brushing his under the table.
Not much, he thought to himself. She was practically throwing herself at him. After this, he'd have to hit on someone a little more challenging. Romilda first, though. She was required, after all. That's why he'd bothered.
"How much do you think I missed you?" he asked softly, leaning down towards her.
She smirked at him and pulled back. "Not enough to write or floo." After taking a drink of her wine, she looked back over at him. "It is good to see you though. It's been a while. How were your parents?"
So she was going to tease him, was she? That made things a little more exciting. Royden bit his lip and returned to his former position. "My parents?" he asked, caught off a guard for a moment. He hadn't mentioned them in a while, now, had he? But then again, it was a popular excuse of his. "Fine," he covered quickly, not missing more than a beat. "No terrible afflictions or anything significant to note," he replied honestly. Unfortunately, thought he.
"How is your mother? And your-" he smiled. "New flatmate?"
"My mother was fine," she lied. "Enjoying Sweden as usual. Has a new boyfriend. And my flatmate is quite charming." That made her smile. She and Harry had been getting on pretty well.
She took another sip of her wine and leaned back in the booth to regard him.
"So. Did you really miss me or were you lying?" she asked quietly. "You do know no one ever misses me, don't you?"
Royden was a good actor, and he knew it. Upon hearing her question, his lips curved into a crooked smile as he met her eyes. "I really did miss you," he stated quietly, affecting an earnest tone and reached out to push back a lock of her hair. He didn't think he needed to add anything further. Less was more on the sincerity front, he guessed. He couldn't be sure.
Romilda's eyes went back up to him, her expression softening only the tiniest bit without her even realizing it. Her whole life she'd been starved for affection, for attention, a fact that had always gotten her in trouble. It didn't matter if Royden sometimes had acted in a way that scared her a little. He'd been angry, she'd always justified to herself. And sometimes people did or said things when they were angry they didn't really mean.
When he looked at her like that, she could feel almost like she meant something to him.
"I missed you too," she said quietly. It wasn't quite a lie, but it wasn't quite the truth. Their last interaction had been one of the reasons she'd left as quickly as she had. Her hand came up, her fingers wrapping around his. It was silly to think he cared about her, but he was so terribly earnest. Not that he was the type of bloke she normally fancied. But he fed the needy, clingy parts of her that were so very afraid and alone.
A flicker of Royden's conscience pressed in the back of his mind temporarily. But he ignored it - something he'd grown more and more accustomed to, because stopping to think about other people like this was such a waste of time. He knew Romilda meant nothing to him, and that he was using her. She was just so damned easy to use.
He pulled her hand towards his mouth, lowered his head and brushed his lips against her skin, inhaling deeply her scent -- for show.
"Show me," he instructed, his voice matching her quiet levels.
She looked up at him, feeling her heart start to pound a bit harder in her chest, then leaned in, slowly, her lips pressing against the warm skin of his jaw, then further down, until they brushed his mouth. Her lips parted, teasing, tasting his warm breath, even as her free hand brushed along his side.
"If you really want me to show you, I think we'll have to go somewhere more private."