Re: Loft: Selina & Robert & Eddie
[The kitty cat was too drunk for panicked stillness; she was too drunk to recognize panicked stillness in the riddled man. And fearing was smart; she knew that. Robert had told her a hundred times that he was a thing to be feared, but Selina refused. Tony refused too, and she counted herself in good company. And alright, so Tony had a little suit of iron, and she had slinky black. But she didn't think she needed metal, and that wasn't even the booze talking.
She'd seen worse than this. She'd had sex with worse than this.
But calling Tony was smart, all things considered, and she caught Eddie's tap, tap, type, and she assumed that was what he was doing somehow. Hopefully he wasn't calling anyone else. Because that? That would be bad. Even drunk, Selina knew that.
Nothing hurts me, Robert said, and Selina turned her attention back to him, mossy eyes unfocused by rich wine.] Nothing's going to try to hurt you. I wouldn't let it. [There was reassurance there, slurred, and a hint of honestly, as if we would in the cant of her voice. And she would argue that it wasn't him she needed protection from. After all, here he was, trying not to hurt anyone, wasn't he?
The kitty cat wasn't terribly patient, and yet she waited to see if Robert stepped out into the hotel, and she closed the door when he didn't. Oops, Eddie, because she was fairly sure that wasn't the plan. But she didn't care. She watched as Robert stalked to the corner, and she followed him. She didn't think he might perceive her as threatening, injured and drunk. No one could possibly perceive her as threatening - for most people, that would be a mistake.
She looked over her shoulder at Eddie, hazy drunk gaze lighting on the phone with a little nod. Yes, call Tony. Someone needed to walk Robert home after this, and Tony was the most trusted option. As for her, she turned her attention back to the pacing man, and she watched him a second before reaching out a hand to touch his arm as he passed.]