evolutionaryimperative | (no subject)

(no subject)

After their tryst inside of his shop, he did not show up at her club again. But he had ended up another club that evening and on the news the next morning was the report of missing blonde stripper, this one named Nikki Sanders. They reported to once again having no leads to the murderer. And as far as he was concerned, they would never have any leads. He was too careful to get caught.

But that was another issue for another time. For now he had changed out of his work clothes and into a pair of dark jeans and a black shirt. On his way he stopped by one of his favorite take out places and got them some Chinese food. He figured they might as well have some food to eat while they made fun of bad TV together.

It was...nice spending time with Elle, and not just because they ended up having sex so often (although that was nice as well). It had been so long since he had just enjoyed someone else's company. It was a nice indulgence even if he knew it could probably never go any farther than it already had. If she knew anything about what he was really like, it would all be over. And he really didn't want to have to kill her.

He made his way to Elle's apartment from his car and stopped outside the door. He brought his hand up and knocked, waiting for her answer.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After their lunch date, and subsequent fuck in his shop, Elle had gone home to shower and change out of her dress, the soft fabric tucked away for some skimpy lingerie set.

Work was work that night--hustling, and drinking, and making fantasies come true. And more than ever, she hated it. Her resentment was starting to make her twitch with suppressed violence every time some asshole looked at her like the pig he was. She couldn't even help but slap some drunk salesman right across his ugly face for telling her something particularly nasty.

Although being a fucking bitch seemed to work wonders, because the more she acted out, the more the guys seemed to like it.

But it wasn't an act, and it shook her a little--no, a lot--when she woke up the next morning with a headache some aspirin cured a few hours later. How much had she drank again?

She didn't know what the problem was, what was wrong with her. What was going on in her stupid head. She didn't want to think about it.

So she dragged herself into the shower to clean up for Gabriel instead. She went out and bought condoms, snacks, plenty of alcohol, too. She made sure she was wearing the cutest little corset top she owned with jeans, and did her hair. It was nice, actually seeing someone. She assumed that's what they were doing now, seeing each other. They were dating.

She was just finishing up putting the beers in the fridge when she heard his knock on the door, and her stomach flipped like she'd missed a step on a flight of stairs or something. She walked down her reals ones just fine though, and opened the door with a practiced, flirtatious smile.

"Hey there," she said sweetly, her eyes noting the bag of delicious smelling food. That was thoughtful of him.

"I hope you like Chinese," He offered with a smile as she opened the door. Not that he was particularly worried about it or anything. After all, who didn't like Chinese? Okay, so a few people in the world probably didn't, but they were just flukes.

None the less he leaned in, pressing a small, soft kiss against her lips in greeting. That's what people did when they were seeing someone, right? It had been so long, he wasn't sure of what the social cues were anymore. Not that he had ever been that good with them. His other relationships had all been few and far between, and most of them very short lived.

He pulled away after a moment or two, stepping past her and inside of the apartment now. He was glad that they had arranged to meet here again, it was much nicer and bigger than his own place. Besides, his TV was small and outdated and he didn't even have cable. Not to mention that his home was really his domain, and he wasn't quite ready to let her inside of it yet.

"So what shows have you picked out for us to watch?"

Edited 2010-02-13 09:07 (UTC)

She did like Chinese food. Who didn't? And her heart fluttered a little in her chest as his mouth pressed against hers. She wasn't expecting it--the kiss or the flutter, but she responded all the same, smiling just a little and kissing him just as gently back. "I love Chinese food," she assured him, reaching to take his bag and be a good hostess. She closed the door behind him and made her way up the stairs ahead of him, her eyes lingering on him as long as possible.

She liked looking at him. She could now, as much as she wanted, right?

"We're in luck. There's a Real World marathon on tonight before the season finale," she said, her voice lilting and just a little bit mocking. She wouldn't call it luck, per se.

Edited 2010-02-13 09:22 (UTC)

"Lucky us," He drawled in a sarcastic tone. He wasn't at all looking forward to the actual shows. He wasn't a fan of regular television much let alone reality television which was so unstimulating that he could feel his brain cells shrivel up and die at every minute spent watching it.

But he'd be watching with her, at least. So maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

She put the food down on the living room table, turning to meet him with an amused grin. At least they would be more or less on the same page when it came to the entertainment value. Even if it was a bit of a guilty pleasure for Elle.

She stepped forward to squeeze her arms around his middle, lean against his chest and tilt her head back to gaze at him. "You want anything to drink?" she asked softly.

"Beer, if you have it," He said as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her a little closer to him now. At least alcohol would probably make the shows more tolerable. He could only hope.

She hummed softly at the familiar press of his body--it was familiar now, and somehow comforting--and smirked up at him sweetly. "I have it. I have vodka and rum and stuff if you want the night to be really interesting," she murmured.

"Oh?" He asked, raising a curious brow at her suggestion. "What do you suggest? Some kind of drinking game or something?" He was up for that if she was. He usually never did things like that, but with her it might actually be fun.

"Could be fun," she responded nonchalantly, with a little, mischeviously smirk. For a moment she just rubbed his back up and down. Getting drunk and probably having sex again sounded like a good idea to her. Maybe with a few drinks he'd loosen up alittle.

So maybe Elle had some ulterior motives.

With a short affectionate kiss to his cheek, she slipped from his arms to get the alcohol. "So vodka or rum?"

"Vodka," He replied after thinking about it for a moment. Scotch was still his favorite hard liquor but it wasn't good for drinking games such as this. It was supposed to be savored. So vodka would work.

Maybe it would fun to get drunk with her again.

She retrieved the vodka out of her freezer, and two shot glasses with a smile. "We could make the rule anytime someone does something stupid," she suggested, only half-joking.

He laughed a little at that. "I think we'd both get very drunk very quickly if we did it that way."

"Can't hold your liquor?" she challenged, raising an eyebrow and walking back to him, standing close.

"I didn't say that," He replied back with a slight grin on his lips. "I was just pointing how often people are stupid on the shows. I'm pretty sure that's the mass appeal of them. Watch other people do stupid things."

"Well then, what are our rules, smartypants?" she asked, leaning over to put the drinks down.

"You come up with them," He said with a shrug, sitting down on the couch now. "I don't know the show at all, so how could I come up with the rules?"

"Well, you seem to know all about reality shows," she quipped back, taking a seat too and unscrewing the freezing bottle, setting up the first shot. For a moment of silence, she thought, opening two beers too. "Two shots every time someone has sex, a shot every time someone has a fight, and a sip of beer every time there's a talking head."

"Sounds like a good set of rules to me," He replied. Should be interesting, at the very least. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, tugging her toward him a little. He was allowed that now, right? He liked holding her.

He was allowed that. Welcome to it, even. Elle felt a smile spread across her lips as she rested into his side. She handed him his beer and curled up, her head falling to his shoulder as she took a sip and turned the television on. "How was your day?" she asked, her voice just a little bit softer. She could ask that now.

"It was alright. Nothing too interesting. Finished up a few watches I've been working on," He took a sip of his beer. He didn't mention that he had felt almost restless, waiting to see her all day. "And yours? Enjoying your day off?"

"This is my day off," she whispered, tilting her head up to kiss his jaw, just softly, just quickly. "I work nights."

"I forgot," He laughed softly, tilting his head down to kiss her gently.

She closed her eyes at the touch of his lips, parted her and kissed him lightly back. It was enough to send an unbidden shiver down her spine, and that warmth flared up again.

"I am enjoying it," she murmured to him pointedly.

"I'm glad," He murmured with a soft smile, holding her close. There was something about just spending time with her that made him feel...different. Special almost. It was hard to explain, but he was beginning to really like it. Crave it, even.

She didn't want to think about the change. Why... whatever good fuzzy feelings cropped up when she was with him. Recently, when she started to even think of him. So she didn't. She just nestled against him with a sigh and turned the channel to MTV.

Edited 2010-02-14 16:46 (UTC)