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Post by Silas Rosier on Jul 25, 2009 12:29:36 GMT 1
“Look, Silas-”
He turned to look at her, his eyes narrowed and somewhat suspicious. It didn’t take him long to start getting the impression that she was treating him a bit like one would an angry ten-year-old, which, really, wasn’t doing Silas’s mood any favours. Or, how he supposed one would treat an angry ten-year-old anyway, his own parents had preferred the much more questionable method of a backhand to the face when their sons got a bit unruly, which possibly explained a lot about Silas and his brother in general, really.
“No,” he barked, eyeing her with a belligerent look. “I’ve slept enough and I sure-as-fuck don’t need your help.” Right then he noticed Jac was reaching for the bottle. He was suddenly struck with the impulse she was trying to steal it and his hand instinctively jerked back defensively, pulling it away from her hand and closer to his stomach. “And I’m not done with that either, what the fuck are you doing?” he snapped agitatedly, taking a half a step to the side and inadvertently blocking the doorway. “Hell, what the hell do you even know a bad day? If you’d had my month and a half you wouldn’t even be standing.”
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Jul 25, 2009 12:49:24 GMT 1
Jac retreated, hands nervously flattening her blouse where sleep had rumpled it. “Okay, alright Silas. You keep the bottle, I’m sure you know your limits.” A drunken boss was generally something easy to exploit, but Silas had proved to be a stubborn bastard when it came to getting her way. She could not recall an instant when everything had gone to plan. Jac liked plans. They made it easy to figure out what to do next. Unfortunately, she did not have a contingency plan for what to do when your employer cornered you in your office while he was drunk and looking for an argument.
She certainly didn’t know how to respond to Silas bitching about his bad luck, but Jac’s frayed nerves were getting twitchy. “Alright, you don’t need me. But I know what a streak of bad luck is like.” See: getting involved with Silas Rosier. Anxious eyes flickered to Silas’s face, and she glanced to the door over his shoulder. She didn’t feel quite so confident considering the mood he was in and what he tended to do to inanimate objects when he was angry. She was lucky the filing cabinet debris had not come at her in such a way that she was injured, but if he exploded much else, she didn’t fancy her chances in such a small room.
Despite her better judgement, she stepped up closer to Silas and touched his shoulder, avoiding the liquor bottle. Giving Silas what he wanted was easier in most situations, and Silas in her office generally meant he wanted one thing in particular. Biting back the tingle of warning that was slowly building to a buzz, she sidled a little closer. She was beginning to hate that she was the pawn in this game, but if it meant she could escape unscathed, she could bare it. “I’ve finished all of the due paperwork; I’m off duty. Lets see if we can make this day start a little better, hmm?”
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Post by Silas Rosier on Jul 26, 2009 13:41:57 GMT 1
Silas eyed Jac warily as she came closer again. However, she showed no inclination of wanting to make off with the alcohol once more, and the look on her face had softened somewhat. Silas finally caught on to what she was up to when her hand made its way up to his shoulder. His lip curled into a lopsided smile.
Heh. Well, there were certainly worse ways to deal with the sudden emergence of an unwelcome relative.
Had Silas of been in possession of all his mental faculties he would have seen her behaviour for what it was: solely an attempt to avoid further trouble. Not that it really would have made much a difference. Since when had Silas ever cared about what was going on in Jac’s head as long as he got his way?
Silas’s bearing relaxed slowly when Jac sidled closer. Taking the cue from her, the hand not holding the bottle rested against her hip, sliding down, then back up to stroke her bare thigh, riding up the edge of her skirt. His mouth brushed hot against her cheek. “Hmm, I’m sure we’ll think of something.”
Fuck. He needed more hands. The booze was going to need to be parted with. He vaguely recalled there was a shelf next to him and managed to put the bottle down without spilling anything. His now empty hand rose to her jaw, tilting her up to meet his mouth, the other one hooking the edge of her underwear with his thumb.
Yes, there were certainly worse ways...
Fin. ---
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