Solomon Djaevelen is the Walord Prince of Dhemlan (blackjeweled) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2010-12-30 08:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | daemon sadi, jaenelle angelline |
Who: Sol and Evie
What: Cuteness of cute
Where: In the street obvs and then Evie's house
When: December 30th
Warnings: C for Cute, water fight, cozy bathrobe theft
Evie was not kept under lock and key by any means, she had free reign of the place really it just so happened most of the time she had Luc around to make sure she kept out of trouble. But she was much more sensible than most girls her age, and she was trustworthy. The mischief she got into usually kept her family laughing rather than yelling and she liked it that way. She was stubborn and hard headed, but she was also smart and eventually most of her plans worked out alright. When she got it into her mind to do something it was usually best to just let her alone until it was done and over with.
However, every now and again, a plan came along that was all emotion and no forethought whatsoever. This was just such an occasion. She was on her way home from volunteering at the nursing home and her ride had been late, so she’d taken the bus. She hopped off the bus, and waited for the light to change on the curb when she saw a very silly kitty trying to cross the street, she didn’t think much about taking that first step off the curb to go and get it.
Sol didn’t consider himself a particularly valiant individual. He didn’t care much for chivalry (since most women didn’t deserve it), and honor and integrity were tools people used to twist you when you possessed him. He made a regular habit of shucking any of those particular traits to protect himself. So when he saw a kitten scurry into the busy city street, he paid it no particular attention. Someone, somewhere, would be very sad their pet had died. They would get a new one. And when the young blonde girl chased the cat into the street, he spared her a passing glance. After all, he wasn’t interested in some dumb bitch dying.
For some strange reason, he looked again. Saw her face. Felt something inside him twist up.
He lunged forward, pushing another man out of his way as he reached for the woman. Idiot! Had she even looked to see the cars coming toward her? Unlikely. She was female. They didn’t do sensible things like look both ways.
He grabbed her as soon as she scooped the kitty into her arms, yanking her onto the sidewalk as a crossover flew by, the driver laying on his horn. Sol snarled at the car before turning the girl around and doing a visual check of her. No bumps, scrapes, or bruises. Very attractive eyes. Well dressed. A sweet face. He faltered, wondering why the hell he was noticing any of those things. “Are you well?” he asked her, his gaze lowering to the kitty. His lips quirked as he fought to suppress a look of dislike directed entirely at the animal.
She was shocked when someone pulled her back, and she almost screamed, she did NOT like being touched. You don’t touch without permission, even she knew that. But she didn’t have time to scream before she laid her eyes on him. Well. That changes things, doesn’t it? Granted, she wasn’t entirely sure what “that” was, but it definitely changed. Well shit.
She furrowed her brow at his question, “We’re fine,” she said looking down and giving the kitten a scratch. She checked for a collar and there wasn’t one. She looked Sol over once again and then back down at the kitten, “Do you like him?” she asked the cat as if he’d answer, and the cat actually did look over at Sol and then back at Evie. She nodded once and looked at Sol with a big smile, “We need to get you kitten supplies. What do you think his name is?”
He didn’t like the way she looked from him to the kitten and back again. Not at all. He didn’t like animals. No, that wasn’t true. He liked them. He just didn’t have space in his life for them, and if she thought she was going to dump that scruffy disease infested fleaball on him, she was sadly mistaken.
Except that with the right use of puppy eyes from her, he was fairly certain he would cave to any and all of her desires. It horrified him. None of the women in his life had ever had any semblance of control over him that he didn’t explicitly give. But this woman. This woman halfway owned him and he didn’t even know her name. Something was so very wrong.
“No, we don’t,” he said, and his wide-eyed expression softened the harsh tone of his voice. He looked like she had dropped a bomb on him. “I don’t particularly care for cats.” That was a lie, mostly.
She wasn’t sure what was going on here, but the best she could do was try and go with the flow. That was what she expected Luc and her Papa to do, the best she could do was afford herself the same luxury. This was the oddest day she’d had in a while.
At his comment she quirked a brow at him and shifted the kitten just a bit, her decision was already made. She had her free hand balled up in a fist, it had been prepared to knock him out when he touched her, but she unclenched it and held her hand out for him to take. “I think you’ll care for this one in particular, come on, I’ll help you.”
He stared at her hand, baffled. Who offered to hold hands with a perfect stranger? Reluctantly, he took her hand and wondered if it was too early for a glass of Brandy. He hoped not. He was fairly sure he would need one. “What if I told you my apartment doesn’t allow pets?” he asked, his voice sounding strangled. He wondered what had happened to the seducer, to the man who could whisper in a woman’s ear and make her wits flee her.
That part of his personality was still on the side of the road, somewhere behind them as they walked in the direction of a pet store. At least he hoped they were. Would Cora like a pet? What if she was allergic to cats? Damn it all. He tried to put a surly expression on his face, but every time he looked at her, he simply couldn’t do it. “I’m Solomon, by the way,” he said, figuring they should at least know the other’s name.
She took his hand firmly and held on tight as she walked down the street with Mr. Kitten in one arm. “I’d tell you that pet policies are for wusses, everyone breaks them,” she informed him quite simply. “And honestly? He’s just a kitten. He really likes you, and it’s painfully obvious that he’s meant to be yours.”
Yes, they were in the direction of a pet store, and she was trying very hard to work out in her mind why on earth she was doing any of this. Making friends was nothing new to her, but this. This was different and while she wasn’t one to question this kind of thing, but when it was her, it was different. Everyone knew it was different. “I’m Evangeline,” she answered easily.
The kitten liked him. Of course it liked him. He eyed it in her arms, and it mewed at him. He scowled at it, quickly, so she wouldn’t see the expression. For some bizarre reason, he wanted her to like him. Needed her to like him. If she didn’t like him, somehow everything would go horribly wrong. “Even if I don’t like cats?” He muttered the question; it wasn’t meant to be answered since it was a token protest to her decision.
A smile finally worked its way across his face, replacing his surly expression. “Evangeline,” he said quietly, letting the name roll off his tongue like a caress. It was completely inappropriate to say anyone’s name like that in public, but he couldn’t see any other way to say her name. “A beautiful name.” He gave her a winning smile, starting to feel much easier about all this.
“Even if you don’t like cats,” she said simply. “This one is yours.” And apparently there were no two ways about it. She certainly didn’t see any other way to go about this. She’d saved the kitten, Solomon had saved her, and she hadn’t punched him in his face. That was all the information she needed.
She took pause when he said her name because while she’d never exactly thought her name was anything special, she was pretty certain that no one had ever said her name like that before. She stopped walking full stop and looked over at him for a long moment trying to gauge just what on earth was going on here. “Thank you.” She said finally smiling back at him.
Yup, he was stuck with the cat. And he couldn’t say no. Briefly, he entertained the notion of just abandoning it after she - Evangeline - left him alone, but guilt kicked aside heartlessness and took up what he suspected would be a permanent residence in his gut. That sucked. With a quiet sigh, he resigned himself to his fate as they approached the petstore. He gave it a quick study, peering in the wide window beside the door to gauge the population density.
That was when he noticed she wasn’t next to him anymore. He paused, turning to look over his shoulder. She stood behind him, a curious look on her face. He waited, patiently, until she she spoke and smiled, disarming whatever tension might have been building between them. “You’re very welcome, Evangeline,” he replied, mentally kicking himself in the head. No matter how much he liked saying her name - which was very much - saying it every time he spoke in that sensual tone of voice was complete overkill. That didn’t stop him from look down at her as he held open the door to the pet store. He wanted to see her reaction to his tone.
Evie knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that said kitten would be well looked after. She was glad she’d somehow been able to bring them together. More than that she was sure she’d found a new friend. Though, just what kind of friend she wasn’t sure. It reminded her of when she’d been a little girl and Lucien had come along and changed her world. She didn’t know how or why to trust him, but she did. No one had made her feel that comfortable since Luc and it was an emotion she trusted. She didn’t always trust herself, or her reactions to things, but this feeling. This was a feeling she knew.
He held the door open to the pet store, and she felt her cheeks turn just the slightest bit pink when he said her name again, and she decided that her name was never going to sound so perfect again. Every time someone said her name after this moment...It wouldn’t be anywhere near good enough. She smirked at him as she sighed, “Oh you’re going to be a pill aren’t you, boyo?” she said walking passed him into the pet store. She briefly turned to look over her shoulder at him before a familiar voice said “Hi Evie,” and she was forced to pull her gaze away from Sol and smile at Veronica the woman who ran the place.
He choked. Boyo? Boyo? And a pill? He wasn’t a pill. He was... well. He wasn’t entirely sure, but he was neither a pill nor a boyo. Whatever the hell a boyo was. A child, likely. He fixed the back of her head with what he was sure was a constipated expression. Women. Insufferable, horrible creatures. The thought was coupled with wry humor, not viciousness, and that surprised him. He didn’t begrudge her the way she was treating him. She was treating him, he imagined, just like everyone else.
What a breath of fresh air.
It figured that the people who worked in this place would know her. He had the suspicion Evangeline was one of those women who loved animals, point and case in that she threw herself onto a busy street to save a fleabag. That needed a name. He needed to name it. Making a face, Sol separated from Evangeline and the cat to stroll down an aisle with collars and leashes. They made him uneasy; too many women liked playing that particular game. Shaking himself, he plucked a simple length of leather from the wall. It would match the kitten’s coloring nicely. It still needed a name. “Mark,” he muttered. No, that wasn’t right.
Wandering to Evangeline’s side again, he picked up a squeaking mouse and squeezed it. It squeaked. The cat in Evangeline’s arms mewed with delight.
She was showing off the kitten to Veronica as Sol wandered around the store, she was getting the kitty flea dip and all of the other things that were kept behind the counter. She spent some time chatting, checking on things she hadn’t checked in on in a while. Veronica gave her a towel and she wrapped the kitten up in it.
She was picking up the food and the litter box when Sol arrived back with the leash in hand and picked up the squeaking mouse the kitten mewed and went to bat at it. Evie was pleased and she smiled widely at him. “Food, litter box, litter and toys. I’ve got his flea dip at the counter and some medicine for his ears and eyes and a de-wormer just in case.”
She handed the kitten over to him so she could pick up the food bag and the litter box, “Ask him what his name is, he’ll let you know.”
Quite suddenly, there was a kitten in his arms. Sol stared at it, just stared, not knowing what else to do, and it stared back. He was tempted to tell her kittens didn’t talk. The animal wouldn’t be able to tell him its name. But as he stared at it, considered it, a name bubbled up from deep inside. It was a nonsense name. It was foolish and ridiculous. Swallowing, he glanced at her. “Mistral,” he finally said. Such a stupid name.
But the kitten mewed, kneading its claws into the fabric of Sol’s black jacket, clearly pleased. Ignoring the kitten, he returned his attention Evie. “De-wormer? Flea dip?” He didn’t know the first thing about animals. Except that cow meat went into burgers, and burgers were delicious.
She attempted to hide a smile when he finally figured out the kitten’s name and was pleased they’d come to an accord. “Like the wind!” she said nodding happily. “And yes, de-wormer just in case, and we can take him to my house and give him a flea dip and some milk and tuna. I’ll show you how to look after him.”
She hauled their stuff up to the counter with incredible upper body strength for such a small thing and didn’t bother with anything except paying for the items. She certainly wasn’t going to make him do it. She was excited for the kitten having a home, but for some reason she couldn’t wait to get Sol to her home, she didn’t know why or what anyone would have to say (though why should they be surprised?), but she was anxious. She hoped he’d stay a while. She didn’t want to let him out of her sight.
He spent the walk to her home trying to keep the kitten from climbing onto his shoulders and ruining his coat. He succeeded to some degree, though how much he wasn’t entirely sure. The kitten had made his way halfway up Solomon’s shoulder at one point, and there had been a nasty sounding rip when he removed the kitten from his jacket. With a sigh, he followed Evangeline into her apartment, dropping the bags he was carrying as soon as he could.
“Lovely place,” he said, glancing around. It was very well decorated. Homey. Relaxing. He was surprised by the last; strange places usually made him incredibly nervous. “Do you live alone?” he asked, frowning, not enjoying the thought she might be an easy target.
She locked the door behind her and looked around, no one was home, so that was good. She didn’t feel like sharing her new friend with anyone at all. Not yet. Papa would have to say hello at some point, and Luc would have to meet him, but not today.
“Thank you,” she said glad that he liked it. She wanted him to be comfortable here, that meant he’d stay longer. She put her coat on the chair and kicked off her boots leaving her in her mismatched socks. “I live with Papa, Luc is here a lot to,” finger quotes “watch me,” eye roll, “and sometimes we have someone come cook, and we have someone to come clean the place, be right back!” she went down the hall to change out of her sweater and put on a ratty tee shirt so they could get to work on cleaning Mistral up.
When she came back down the hall, she was pulling her hair into a pony tail and a very large “cat” was following behind her. “Don’t mind Monsieur Fat Cat, he likes guests and doesn’t pout when there are new babies in the house, he’s used to it,” she said nodding to the cat behind her. She took the kitten from Sol, “Take your coat off, come into the kitchen we have work to do,” she said feeling much more comfortable now that she was in her own space rather than out in the street running her errands and picking up strays. Yes strays. Plural. She decided she liked them both quite a lot.
Wary, Solomon glanced around the entrance to the apartment as he stepped further inside, toeing the kitten supplies in front of him. He wondered how her papa or her Luc would react to her bringing him home. Likely not well. He hoped they were out. A little less at ease than he had been moments before, he busied himself examining the furniture while she ran off. He scratched the kitten’s head idly, not wanting to connect with it as “Mistral” until he had no choice.
Cora, he was sure, would love the animal. He sighed, glancing up as she came back into the room. She plucked Mistr--the kitten from his hands, and he let it go willingly. He shrugged out of the coat, unbuttoning the cuffs of his white silk shirt as he followed her to the kitchen. The cat - Monsieur Fat Cat - arrested his attention, and he paused. “Monsieur Fat Cat?” He glanced at her, unable to believe the odds. “You’re... E Sabilier? From the forums?”
What were the odds? Slim, he had no doubt, that he would meet two young women from the forums. The fact that they were both young women unnerved him, but not enough to let it show.
She turned on her heel, all of a sudden unsure of who was standing in front of her and suddenly questioning her track record with good judgment. Was he a stalker? Suddenly it dawned on her and she laughed turning back toward the sink as she started filling the sink up with warm water, “You bought me a leash.”
The kitten was already starting to dig his claws into Evie’s arm but she didn’t scold him, she just tried to shush him a bit, “Can you come soothe your cat? He likes you more than me and he’s really going to hate me after the bath,” she said as if it were the most sensible thing in the world.
There were so many places he could go with “you bought me a leash,” few of them good. His favorite involved her in a tiny leather corset with a collar and leash. But somehow, he was under her control. She held the power despite the subversive imagery. He shivered with delight, closing his eyes for just a moment to savor the vision. Then he shoved it from his mind. Something, clearly, was wrong with him. He didn’t lust after women. Ever. Never mind ones he had only just met.
Shaking himself, he moved to her side. “I bought Monsieur Fat Cat a leash,” he corrected with a raised brow as he reached for Mistral. He slid a hand over the kitten’s head and offered it a finger to chew on. It took to his finger with great delight. “Are we certain he doesn’t have rabies?” he asked, giving the cat a worried look. The last thing he needed was rabies. Again. He’d been there and done that in the past.
He fell silent, distracted by a sharp, sweet smell in the air. It took him a minute to realize the smell was her. Rather, it was her hair. Subtly, he leaned closer and took a quiet but deep breath. Peaches and cream. She smelled like peaches and cream. Closing his eyes, he took another breath of the light, delicious scent before pulling away. There was no need to invade her space - or to be caught doing it. He wanted to comment on the smell so she would know he liked it, but he barely knew her. It would be gauche. She’d think he was a freak. He realized, quite suddenly, that what she thought of him really mattered. Coughing, he said, “I’m not interested in getting rabies.” There, that would hopefully distract her from anything she may have noticed.
She watched him, genuinely unsure of where his mind was wandering to but unwilling to interrupt his train of thought. He looked like he was having a nice thought, and she knew how annoying it was when people interrupted her nice thoughts. “You bought Monsieur Fat Cat a leash that he hates, at this rate I’ll get more use of it than he would,” she said as he approached and started distracting the kitten with his finger.
She put the kitten under the water, he was as mad as he could be, but he didn’t have much choice but to get this flea bath and Evie looked at him and spoke firmly, “Mistral, stop that little one. It’s for your own good,” she said giving him a scratch. She looked at Sol, very amused by his question and she chuckled, “No rabies, but you’ll have to bring him over tomorrow so my vet can give him his shots,” she said hoping he’d agree to it. If she could get an agreement that he’d be back the next day, then maybe he’d come back the day after that as well.
She wasn’t sure if he had gotten closer, but she heard his breathing and she tried to keep her wits about her, there was no question in her mind that this was not how she thought she’d spend her afternoon. Bringing some strange man into her home was so far against anything she’d ever really done, but bringing this man into her home seemed like the best idea she’d ever had. She turned to look at him then, their faces weren’t too very far apart. She had to say something. Anything. “You won’t get rabies,” she promised. It was sincere, and heartfelt and probably the lamest thing in the world to say, but there it was.
Really, he needed to escape. She wanted him to come back tomorrow, and the terrifying fact was that he wanted to see her again, if only so he could lean against her and breathe in the fresh scent of her hair. He wondered if her skin smelled like peaches and cream, too, and then went a step further, wondering how she would react if he bought a bottle of peaches and cream lotion for her.
It was completely inappropriate. He knew it was inappropriate. He did. Really. But he didn’t care. She was a breath of fresh air, someone kind and gentle, at once very much like Cora but then again nothing like Cora. He didn’t want to kiss Cora. The fact that he wanted to kiss Evangeline was... well, it warranted further thought. Later. With a bottle of alcohol on hand. A large one. Preferably brandy. Or scotch. Something that would have him stone drunk in a heartbeat so he didn’t have to think. Maybe that was a bad idea. Perhaps he should keep his wits.
“If you’re sure,” he conceded, tugging his finger free of the kitten’s teeth before it could break skin. It yowled at him, so he offered another finger, stroking the top of its head as well. “Do you have a habit of picking up strays and bringing them home?”
Evie didn’t much of a sense of appropriate vs. inappropriate. She did what she liked to do, and that was pretty much it. She knew she was different, she’d long figured that out, but she had her routine, and she had her friends, and most importantly she had Luc and her Papa. She made friends anywhere she went, usually finding the people who needed it the most. It didn’t really occur to her that she might be looking for something too. She didn’t even know anything was missing, but suddenly he was standing here next to her and she wasn’t sure where he was supposed to fit. He wasn’t like Luc and he definitely wasn’t like Papa.
It wasn’t unusual for people to worm their way into Evie’s life, Luc had done it in about ten seconds. Someone shiny and new with a promise to help her out of a bad situation, so that part of it wasn’t new to her. However, the severity of this new affection, it was alarming. But she was going to go with it and see what happened. She was pretty sure he thought she might be crazy, but again, that was nothing new for her either. She was different, and there was no question of it. She could handle it. But she wanted him to like her, she needed to not be so different he ran off and didn’t come back.
She was scrubbing the kitten behind his ears and giving him a quick rinse, and she quickly wrapped him up in a towel and rubbed him a bit with it. She smiled at Sol and forced herself to look away from him, “I have a lot of habits,” she answered smiling wryly.
“Most people do,” he said, his tone light, teasing. He grinned at her, feeling playful and childish for no good reason. Sliding his hand off Mistral’s head, he flicked a bit of water at Evangeline’s chest. He didn’t want to get soap in her eyes - that would ruin any chance of having fun - but splashing her clothes? Oh, that was fine. More than fine.
Mistral, devious beasty, slid out from under Evangeline’s hold, jumped, and made a large splash in the water. He mewed and struck a pose, looking at them as though demanding affection. Sol just stared. “Silly kitty,” he told him, bopping him lightly on the head. Mistral retaliated by biting on his finger. Hard.
“Well that’s a relief,” she said wondering what kind of habits he had. She had to wonder if he was in the habit of worming his way into the lives of girls who like kittens. She found herself annoyed by that thought, and wondered just what other girls he had all over this town. Did he say everyone’s name the way he said hers? And why did she care?
She quirked a brow at him and was getting ready to splash him back but the kitten did a nose dive into the soapy water and she threw her head back laughing. While he was distracted with Mistral biting him she gave Sol a splash and looked quite pleased with herself. She was ready to reach for the spray hose attached the sink, just in case this water fight got very serious as they tended to do.
The water hit him in the face, and he turned to Evangeline slowly, one brow raised. “If it’s war you want,” he told her lightly, grinning like a little boy, “it’s war you’ll get.” He splashed more water at her, creating a single psychic hand to help him in his efforts to soak her to the bone. Why he was doing it was beyond him. He usually didn’t enjoy this kind of behavior, because he didn’t let himself. He kept all his joy and happiness locked up and tied away so no one could take it from him.
Her laughter filled the air once she wound up soaked, she wasn’t sure what he’d done, but it didn’t seem entirely fair. So she did the only thing left to do and sprayed him with the hose. The kitten, for his part, had climbed into the “dry” side of the sink and was watching them with an odd look on his face. Monsieur fat cat who had been supervising moved faster than Evie had seen him move in a while and scurried out of the kitchen lest he get the deadly water on him.
Their battle was epic.
No. That was a lie. But it felt epic. At some point, he stopped relying singularly on his physical hands and started using his psychic ones. It was a natural reaction for him; he did everything with his psychic hands that he did with his real hands. They were just another extension of who he was, as much as any other limb.
When their battle finally died down, him laughing with more feeling than he had in ages, he leaned over the edge of the counter, shaking his head. He was soaked thoroughly, but he didn’t care at all. “That,” he told her with a smile, “was more fun than I’ve had in a long time.” With the possible exception of the glitter fight he’d had with Cora.
Evangeline was soaked through. From head to toe. He’d cheated. She didn’t know how, but he’d cheated. She was sure of it. She looked around the room...Luckily this was not a first for this kitchen and she was pretty sure it had seen worse. Maybe. “Cheater,” she teased.
She found herself smiling softly has he laughed, and smiled. He had a lovely laugh and she could tell that it wasn’t something the did often. Evie loved to laugh. It felt good, and she wanted to hear it every day. She wanted to laugh with him every day. “Well. If you’re quite finished,” she teased. “We can all three of us get dried off and pretend to be civilized. No one would believe us, but we can fake it.”
Oh, he was a cheater, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. He could hardly believe he’d used his power like that. But she had to be like him, too. She was on the forum. That had to mean something.
So they stripped out of their clothes and put on thick, fluffy bathrobes she found in her father’s room. He tried not to think about the fact that he was wearing another man’s bathrobe. It wasn’t going well until she dragged him to the couch with Mistral and Monsieur Fat Cat. They piled onto the couch while she fussed with the remote and their snuggly clothes, arranging everything until it was just right. She turned on the TV, switching the channel to some movie he’d never watched before - television on a whole tended to make him nauseous - and they relaxed together with the kittens on top of them. It was surprisingly amiable, surprisingly enjoyable. He found that he didn’t really want to leave, and when he finally did, he wanted to go back as soon as possible. That warranted some thought.