Post by JR on Dec 2, 2015 0:32:33 GMT -8
Characters: Isla Byrne & Hugh Crowne
Summary: Isla is secretly watching her brother busk ( gross ), Hugh is secretly watching Isla for his benefactor, when the two bump into each other and fire ignites.
TW: Language. Some sexual references.
ISLA: It was late Tuesday evening, but not so late or cold that the crowd near the London Eye had thinned. In fact, there were quite a few dozen gathered 'round the ferris wheel and the other attractions that people set up around it knowing this was a sought after tourist attraction. Isla wasn't in the thicket of the crowd, but rather away from it. She was leaning against a brick partition wall that lead into a small promenade where many of the crowd had gathered around a young man playing his guitar and putting words to his song as well. The tall Scandanavian kept out of sight, purposefully so, but close enough that she could hear the music, or even see the musician if she moved in the right way to adjust to the way the throng gathered around him came and went or stuck around -- often times getting in her way, but as long as she could still hear him she wasn't as worried about seeing the man who played so well, and sang just as beautifully. It rained earlier in the night, leaving the sidewalks glistening wet beneath the street lamps and drops gathered and clung to posts and benches and any other surfaces. But even that didn't stop the vendors from opening their food trucks and carts, or from selling souvenirs or the Eye from operating. She prepared for the rain though, carrying an umbrella that was currently closed, but dangling from her wrist -- it was also good for hiding if needed, if Will happened to look her way, though he rarely did. Why would he? He wasn't busking for those lurking in the shadows, but for the audience that had his attention. All that blonde hair, so thick and long and made of a wild mane of curls had been tamed into a twist at the nape of her neck, pulled back loosely from her face and pinned where it had defiantly tried to escape the way she fixed it. She wore a khaki trench coat that went down below her knees, belted at the waist in a way that accentuated her willowy shape. Beneath it, black skinnies could be seen and tucked into a pair of brown riding boots that molded over her calves to nearly her knees -- leaving only a few inches of her pants exposed between her coats hem and her dark leather boots. Simply dressed, but each peice was an elegantly tailored thing to this woman exactly, even the plain white button down blouse she wore beneath her trench, the collar of which could be seen at her throat, where it was unbuttoned there as well as the next few; offering glimpses of golden flesh should any care to look. But she took great pains at being ignored tonight, sticking close to the darker parts of the streets and this touristy area. Her brother had made it a bit easy on her tonight -- staying mostly in one place while he played for his pounds and pence. -d-
HUGH: People watching people watching people. Funny how that works out sometimes. Despite being a handsome devil and dashing he played inconspicuous quite well. All you had to do was speak down to folks, treat them off-handedly, avoid eye-contact and people pretty much labeled you wanker and went on with their lives. And that's what he had managed to accomplish after taking up post in nearby cafe, back to the musician and the girl he had tailed here. Cup of coffee with 2 cups of cream was sipped at while he leisurely went about flipping through a newspaper and checking on his phone. Periodic sifting of his eyes to catch the position of Isla, but she seemed rooted for the time being. Caught up listening to another name and face he had some notes on, a mini-dossier of readily available information pieced together from some inside man and his own sleuthing. None of the folks seemed readily worthy of investigation, in his opinion, but that didn't mean something wasn't going to pop up to change his line of thinking. Navy blue blazer was worn over a long-sleeve white turtle-neck, lush cotton left him snug despite the slight chill permeating through his window seat. Icy gaze of blues again checking on his phone, reflection, and then newspaper while he sipped at his coffee. Not at all worried about her catching sight of him since he wasn't obviously watching, but instead keeping a keen ear and remaining aware of where she could take off to at any moment. Odds were that she'd come back past the cafe whenever it was she chose to wander off, but if she didn't it wouldn't be too hard to chase her down. He had a hell of a nose. <done>
ISLA: While she listened to Will play, unaware that she was being watched too, Isla let her mind wander. Wondering if they were the only two among the five who'd inherited the talent their father kept in check for himself. The path her brain took her on turned her attention from the people around Will, and the kid in front of them, to the river close by. Couldn't see much of it, but it was wide enough that the far side of it could be spotted lapping at the boats docked on the other side. Buildings rose up beyond them, windows lit up randomly here and there in the darkness of the night. Chilly hands were pushed into the deep silk lined pockets of her Burberry coat as a breeze picked up off the water and carried into the promenade. Something in the breeze, whether it was a scent or a feeling of intuition or maybe even a color picked up in the wind drew Isla's attention, and her head turned as whiskey stare followed after it -- and within moments centered on the cafe across the street. It was light up like Christmas -- no really, it was decorated for the holiday, and she could see the people within; milling about at the counter, ordering drinks and pastries, seated at the tables either by themselves or with company. Another chilly breeze seemed to dash straight down the back collar of her coat, and she shivered against it; glancing back over to thinning crowd as she realized she could no longer hear the music. In her distraction, Will had moved on. Pushing from her spot, she stepped into the center of the sidewalk, coming up onto her toes to make her already impressive height a few inches taller. No matter which way she looked, she couldn't catch sight of the tall bearded American Byrne, and frustration befell her features. "Fuck it all," she swore beneath her accented breath, hunching into her coat some. A fallen pinecone on the ground was kicked at, and she sent another glance over to the beckoning cafe. Something to warm her belly wouldn't be frowned at, and because of it, Isla headed that way. Only just as she got to the curb, one of the street vendors distracted her from the idea of tea; calling out some fancy hot chocolate he had, made with dark chocolate and mint, and Isla changed course, heading away from the cafe to the left, out of the illumination of the street lamps to where the vendor had his cart, where she promptly ordered the drink. -d-
HUGH: He was keenly aware of the sound dying off the subtle applause from a handful of folks and even their dispersing before she started looking around a bit frantically. Probably lost in her own head. Again he blew at the top of his drink, sending steady lift of steam off its course and drawing it to his mouth for another sip. It was more out of habit that he drank it now, it really did little to his senses, maybe set them on edge--but the sensation of caffeine evaporated in his system after a few minutes and really had no effect. He didn't even much like the taste of it anymore, to be honest. Still, there were motions to go through, and as they say.. when in Rome... Wait.. He burnt his lip and rubbed it casually with the tip of tongue, twisting in his booth some and pressing cheek against the window as he appeared to lose his mark, but then catching sight of the khaki coat turning right at the corner and away. Mm, on the move. He touched napkin to his mouth while scooting from the booth, a handful of bills more than ten times what was due was left in a crumpled pile before blushing waitress gave a courtesy in a moment of panic. He may have been a Crowne, but he certainly wasn't royalty. It earned a short lived laugh from the dark-haired male, sun-kissed skin flexing instinctively and fit arms into the black leather coat he left hanging nearby. Muscled soldier moving with haste, but smoothly, not at all looking rushed--but just as a man who does things quickly. He was out the door and turning sharply to give chase but he caught sight of her at a cart nearly instantly. That's what he gets for not sniffing ahead, eye-contact made and smile immediately turning up on handsome lips. He looked surprised, but then hid it, a chameleon turning shades to fit the situation as quickly as it came. Playing the role of mystified playboy quite well. "What're tha' odds..." It was raining a little, he didn't mind, only wincing a little under the assailing drops. "Din' 'spect to see you just wandering the city streets all alone, no escort or custodian, I have it." He said looking to the man looking for payment for whatever it was she had ordered. Offering over the chosen denomination that reached the bill quickest. <done>
ISLA: The vendor was a bit of an old flirt, but it was charming enough to not be annoying -- in fact, Isla rather enjoyed it. She was all smiles as the festive red cup was passed over after a healthy dollop of whipped cream had been added, when suddenly Hugh Crowne was coming up short and looking quite stunned to have run into her. She was surprised enough that the smile remained frozen on her face a few moments too long, then just dropped right off, leaving her blank faced as he went on. Custodian? Escort? He might have been the only one there to recognize the instant fire that leapt into her pretty brown eyes. "I assure you, Mr. Crowne, I'm quite capable of escorting myself. And I can pay for--" She was outnumbered on that though, the elderly vendor was quick to take Hugh's money, and even give him back the proper change before Isla could really finish the protest she was giving. Rather than making a scene about it though, she drew in a breath and gave the man a tight lipped smile of thanks, but the one she gave Hugh as she stepped away from the cart and back onto the sidewalk was vocal. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that." The cup in her hand grew far too hot at the places she was gripping it too tightly, and she shifted it in her hand some, but didn't bring it up to take a sip in favor of not burning her mouth. Only boneheads burned their mouths. Boneheads. She seemed to notice the rain then, and frowned up at the night sky some; tilting her face up into the orange din of the nearest street lamp to see the drops reflected in the light. "This doesn't seem like your usual part of town," she commented, off hand. The South Bank was heavy with tourists and students and starving artists and those of a mid to lower income. It wasn't her usual haunt either. -d-
HUGH: "Right? I must be stalking you." He mused aloud as he tilted shoulder and bent himself to move in alongside her, that of course all done after he denied the change and stuffed what he was handed into tip-cup. Money was easier to get rid of when you had more than your fair share. Hand was at the small of her back as limb stuck itself out for her to take a hold of if she so chose. The lion quite well-tamed for the public it seemed, even if he became a bit of the savage when the lights went down. Six foot three inch physique easily dwarfed the much smaller musician, both in height and girth. "So since we know what I was doing here, what is it.. that you were doing here?" Joking in his admittance to stalking her, but it did have to make one wonder, right? First he breaks into her house, then he tracks her down at a meeting, and now just popping up on the street. Had to be more than coincidence, right? Or maybe it just was fate. Believe in fate? Charming playboy smiled while head shifted to the side, wet hair starting to grow heavy and damp, soaking into the dark brown and making it look black as it slicked down his forehead. Walking the sidewalk at her pace, fingers settled right at her tailbone so she could always feel his warmth nearby, assuming she couldn't tell while she was drowned in his shadow. <done>
ISLA: Did .. Did Isla just blush? She did. In fact, his words flashed her gaze to him so quickly, just as quickly as the color rose up onto her cheeks. Never for a moment did she believe he was stalking her, but did he witness her own stalking? Sucking in a breath, her eyes dropped to the sidewalk between their feet; a gap he so easily closed by coming to her side. She cleared her throat a little, and told herself to take a step out of the way he touched her, to put more distance between them, but all on it's own her body seemed magnetic and drawn to his. All on it's own, her arm slid against his and her hand folded over his forearm where even through the thick of the clothing he wore she could feel his strength and his heat. It was another few moments, and halfway through the next of his words that she angled her attention back up to him -- a whole six inches in height difference. Was that really that much? Isla didn't believe so, but this was a woman who was quite used to either looking men directly in the eye her own level, or just above it. "Christmas shopping," she said automatically, though she held no bags, or even her own purse. She did have an umbrella though, and passing over her hot chocolate to him, she unlooped it from his wrist and traded it for the cup. "Here. No sense in either of us getting soaked." He did get her thinking though. It couldn't just be coincidence that he was out here, not after he made it clear he knew how to find her. She said nothing on it though, refusing to give into the insinuations at all, as they sat far too close to home in the reasons she was even out here in the first place. There were a line of shops adjacent to the cafe he'd come from ( she didn't know that ) and though it was way too close to closing time, Isla headed in their direction, with Hugh close by. Too close. Touching. It clouded up her senses, his heat and his proximity. "I'm surprised to find you still in the UK." -d-
HUGH: "I wasn't for the past week, or you certainly would have heard from me." He began quietly enough while taking her coffee and tilting himself aside while umbrella was handled by Isla. "Had a conference in Sydney, then had a friend stranded in Dubai, decided to visit them Thursday for that.. eh.. Thanksgiving nonsense, and then came back into town here. Probably going to be settling here for a bit until some of this business I'm handling gets finished, and it doesn't look like anything is going to be polished over anytime soon." Blanketing the conversation with the vague information that was truthful, but nothing significant. Plus, there was nothing interesting about 'work', right? Head had itself tilted at her mainly, attention focused both on the woman and the next step ahead, only so much as to make sure he didn't go stumbling into any uncovered manholes or stumble into a cart or table. "Christmas shopping, eh? Whatcha' get me, hm?" Said with close-mouthed smile and a rising crescent, climbing up forehead while he seemed to intrigue himself at the prospect of her getting him something. Really, the two hadn't spent much time together that wasn't gnashing of hips and panting, but the two had a chemistry. It was obvious, and it wasn't even manufactured. There was something there, and it's probably why things had spiraled so quickly into a romp in the opera house. Fingers on her back rose up towards the middle part, and dipped down to the point where fingertips resided towards the bottom of that coat, tips barely brushing over her bum. <done>
ISLA: Quietly, sure, but she heard him. Her nose wrinkled slightly when she traded her cup for the umbrella -- he was so much taller than she was, he could hold it! She wanted to ask him why she'd have heard from him, wanted to press the issue of it, wanted any excuse to rebuff the man, but she held her tongue. Instead, a brow lifted up, and she brought her gaze from the street to him. "They celebrate Thanksgiving in Dubai?" Curious was the Nordic accent that brought along the question. "Isn't that an American thing?" She gave a rather shifty look to the left, and then to the right, before leaning into his arm some to ensure he'd hear her when she lowered her voice. "I don't think we're supposed to talk about it here, though, shhh." Her hand lifted from his arm, to press her finger to her lips with the shush and she seemed to forget she was trying to maintain distance with the way she grinned up at him. Only to remember a moment later, and quickly turn her head to face the street ahead now that they'd crossed and joined the pedestrians here. Delicate tongue danced it's way across her bottom-heavy mouth, and his inquiry over his Christmas present brought a rather unladylike snort out of the woman who did things mostly ladylike while out in public. Until he'd come along. "You've proven yourself to be at the top of the naughty list. Naughty does not get presents," she haughtily informed him, liking far too much the way his hand traveled south -- which only made her words come out far more snooty than she'd intended. Her pulse quickened, and she no longer felt any of the chill that lingered in the December air, and she knew all at once that it was because of him. "What do you want with me, Mr. Crowne?" She hadn't entirely meant to ask the question out loud, but rather to mull it about in her own head, and form her own reasons. The were entirely too suited -- and unsuitable at the same time. -d-
HUGH: "She's an American, and she was stranded. Some passport issue or another, a friend of a friend, you know how those circles go. Anyway, I was in the area, or flying over it and.. Eh.. it doesn't matter." He waved it off right when she was shushing him and he blinked around a bit. Thanksgiving was a boring subject anyway. He shrugged shoulders beneath the leather of his coat and sniffed at the air lightly before hearing her last question and nearly laughing out loud. Instead he only grinned and the soundhung heavy on the tip of his tongue, never falling to her ear. "Why that's a peculiar question... I don't rightly no, is there going to be a quiz later? Or is this the quiz? I feel so unprepared." He mused again and fingers that teased at the bottom of her bottom closed. Hand finagling its way up and under that khaki colored coat and laying full upon that ass. Cheek cupped in his strong grip and given a squeeze while a breath was taken and held, feeling a flush of warmth rumble in his belly. Mm. He could've been content just like that, change out the drink for some cognac, maybe a cigar, and that ass in the palm of his hand. Thumb swiped in a wide arc, rubbing itself through leggings material right against the luscious curve. "Right now, what I want is to feel you wrapped around me. Is that too bold?" He queried and forced their trudging to go to a pause so dashing lecherous smile and crooking brow could be directed solely towards her beautiful face. <done>
ISLA: She. Given the warmth and the tingles, Isla waited for the spike of jealousy that was sure to come with the mention of spending time with another woman, and was more than satisfied when it didn't come. In fact, that satisfaction curved it's way into a closed-mouthed smile. One she hid behind her first sip of the hot chocolate, especially now that it'd cooled enough to not harm her lips or tongue. It did, however, leave a sliver of white cream at the corner of her upper lip -- one she didn't seem to notice, or had perhaps been distracted from by the possessive squeeze to her ass that came with his response to her blurted question. "I .. " All at once she felt incredibly naive and innocent in retrospect to what they'd done -- he'd already had what he was so boldly expressing, but that didn't stop the pink that settled bright into the apples of her cheeks, or the way her lashes fell to hide the deep set of wide brown eyes. All she could feel was the way his thumb moved against the thinness of her pants, and the streak of heat that it left on her skin beneath the garment. It wasn't until he pulled them into a stop that she lifted the lushness of those sooty lashes to meet his pointed stare. Her fingers dug into his sleeve as some other feeling spiked in the pit of her belly, and it had nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with pure and selfish arousal. "I'm not sure the crowd would appreciate such a show," she started and forced herself to look away from him and make a joke of it, glancing about at the people who parted around the stationary couple like they were the Red Sea. It was a split second decision though, when it came. "Meet me at my flat. A half hour." The cognac he wanted came in the form of the color of her weighted stare pulling it's way back to the dark blue of his. -d-
HUGH: Hand rose upwards and cradled her chin and cheek, flat of his thumb prepared to cleanse her of the marring cream, but instead he leaned forward. Warm brush of his mouth, and a whiff of vanilla cologne, touched at her chin. Sweep of pink tongue sliding out touched her, the moist slick thing raising a line of heat up as the fluff was stolen from her mouth and tasted. He didn't even go through the motion of providing a kiss, just like the cat he was, taking what he wanted and moving along from that. "Half an hour, eh? Half an hour is a long time, but I think I can manage." He disengaged and broke from her like that. He stepped out from the protection of the umbrella she rose, and took the heat his were-body radiated from her. Shifting with a flinch at the rain and then moving off from the lovely Isla, not even stealing an extra glance despite the urge. Her place was only around ten minutes from here, three minute walk to the car, that gave him seventeen to make a stop. Plenty of time. And so off he was. Not again being heard of by her until two minutes till and red Porsche was pulling up to her place. Not parking off a hundred yards off and sneaking up this time, nor was there going to be any scaling the exterior of the building. This time he was up front about coming in through the front door. He was in the same outfit that he saw her on the streets in, but this time he had a bouquet of red-roses. A dozen. He wasn't the type to know what certain colors meant or amount, he just figured flowers were nice, and they were on sale at the gas-station he stopped off at on the way over. He also bought a bag of Christmas M&Ms, but those were in his pocket and those were for him. <done>
Summary: Isla is secretly watching her brother busk ( gross ), Hugh is secretly watching Isla for his benefactor, when the two bump into each other and fire ignites.
TW: Language. Some sexual references.
ISLA: It was late Tuesday evening, but not so late or cold that the crowd near the London Eye had thinned. In fact, there were quite a few dozen gathered 'round the ferris wheel and the other attractions that people set up around it knowing this was a sought after tourist attraction. Isla wasn't in the thicket of the crowd, but rather away from it. She was leaning against a brick partition wall that lead into a small promenade where many of the crowd had gathered around a young man playing his guitar and putting words to his song as well. The tall Scandanavian kept out of sight, purposefully so, but close enough that she could hear the music, or even see the musician if she moved in the right way to adjust to the way the throng gathered around him came and went or stuck around -- often times getting in her way, but as long as she could still hear him she wasn't as worried about seeing the man who played so well, and sang just as beautifully. It rained earlier in the night, leaving the sidewalks glistening wet beneath the street lamps and drops gathered and clung to posts and benches and any other surfaces. But even that didn't stop the vendors from opening their food trucks and carts, or from selling souvenirs or the Eye from operating. She prepared for the rain though, carrying an umbrella that was currently closed, but dangling from her wrist -- it was also good for hiding if needed, if Will happened to look her way, though he rarely did. Why would he? He wasn't busking for those lurking in the shadows, but for the audience that had his attention. All that blonde hair, so thick and long and made of a wild mane of curls had been tamed into a twist at the nape of her neck, pulled back loosely from her face and pinned where it had defiantly tried to escape the way she fixed it. She wore a khaki trench coat that went down below her knees, belted at the waist in a way that accentuated her willowy shape. Beneath it, black skinnies could be seen and tucked into a pair of brown riding boots that molded over her calves to nearly her knees -- leaving only a few inches of her pants exposed between her coats hem and her dark leather boots. Simply dressed, but each peice was an elegantly tailored thing to this woman exactly, even the plain white button down blouse she wore beneath her trench, the collar of which could be seen at her throat, where it was unbuttoned there as well as the next few; offering glimpses of golden flesh should any care to look. But she took great pains at being ignored tonight, sticking close to the darker parts of the streets and this touristy area. Her brother had made it a bit easy on her tonight -- staying mostly in one place while he played for his pounds and pence. -d-
HUGH: People watching people watching people. Funny how that works out sometimes. Despite being a handsome devil and dashing he played inconspicuous quite well. All you had to do was speak down to folks, treat them off-handedly, avoid eye-contact and people pretty much labeled you wanker and went on with their lives. And that's what he had managed to accomplish after taking up post in nearby cafe, back to the musician and the girl he had tailed here. Cup of coffee with 2 cups of cream was sipped at while he leisurely went about flipping through a newspaper and checking on his phone. Periodic sifting of his eyes to catch the position of Isla, but she seemed rooted for the time being. Caught up listening to another name and face he had some notes on, a mini-dossier of readily available information pieced together from some inside man and his own sleuthing. None of the folks seemed readily worthy of investigation, in his opinion, but that didn't mean something wasn't going to pop up to change his line of thinking. Navy blue blazer was worn over a long-sleeve white turtle-neck, lush cotton left him snug despite the slight chill permeating through his window seat. Icy gaze of blues again checking on his phone, reflection, and then newspaper while he sipped at his coffee. Not at all worried about her catching sight of him since he wasn't obviously watching, but instead keeping a keen ear and remaining aware of where she could take off to at any moment. Odds were that she'd come back past the cafe whenever it was she chose to wander off, but if she didn't it wouldn't be too hard to chase her down. He had a hell of a nose. <done>
ISLA: While she listened to Will play, unaware that she was being watched too, Isla let her mind wander. Wondering if they were the only two among the five who'd inherited the talent their father kept in check for himself. The path her brain took her on turned her attention from the people around Will, and the kid in front of them, to the river close by. Couldn't see much of it, but it was wide enough that the far side of it could be spotted lapping at the boats docked on the other side. Buildings rose up beyond them, windows lit up randomly here and there in the darkness of the night. Chilly hands were pushed into the deep silk lined pockets of her Burberry coat as a breeze picked up off the water and carried into the promenade. Something in the breeze, whether it was a scent or a feeling of intuition or maybe even a color picked up in the wind drew Isla's attention, and her head turned as whiskey stare followed after it -- and within moments centered on the cafe across the street. It was light up like Christmas -- no really, it was decorated for the holiday, and she could see the people within; milling about at the counter, ordering drinks and pastries, seated at the tables either by themselves or with company. Another chilly breeze seemed to dash straight down the back collar of her coat, and she shivered against it; glancing back over to thinning crowd as she realized she could no longer hear the music. In her distraction, Will had moved on. Pushing from her spot, she stepped into the center of the sidewalk, coming up onto her toes to make her already impressive height a few inches taller. No matter which way she looked, she couldn't catch sight of the tall bearded American Byrne, and frustration befell her features. "Fuck it all," she swore beneath her accented breath, hunching into her coat some. A fallen pinecone on the ground was kicked at, and she sent another glance over to the beckoning cafe. Something to warm her belly wouldn't be frowned at, and because of it, Isla headed that way. Only just as she got to the curb, one of the street vendors distracted her from the idea of tea; calling out some fancy hot chocolate he had, made with dark chocolate and mint, and Isla changed course, heading away from the cafe to the left, out of the illumination of the street lamps to where the vendor had his cart, where she promptly ordered the drink. -d-
HUGH: He was keenly aware of the sound dying off the subtle applause from a handful of folks and even their dispersing before she started looking around a bit frantically. Probably lost in her own head. Again he blew at the top of his drink, sending steady lift of steam off its course and drawing it to his mouth for another sip. It was more out of habit that he drank it now, it really did little to his senses, maybe set them on edge--but the sensation of caffeine evaporated in his system after a few minutes and really had no effect. He didn't even much like the taste of it anymore, to be honest. Still, there were motions to go through, and as they say.. when in Rome... Wait.. He burnt his lip and rubbed it casually with the tip of tongue, twisting in his booth some and pressing cheek against the window as he appeared to lose his mark, but then catching sight of the khaki coat turning right at the corner and away. Mm, on the move. He touched napkin to his mouth while scooting from the booth, a handful of bills more than ten times what was due was left in a crumpled pile before blushing waitress gave a courtesy in a moment of panic. He may have been a Crowne, but he certainly wasn't royalty. It earned a short lived laugh from the dark-haired male, sun-kissed skin flexing instinctively and fit arms into the black leather coat he left hanging nearby. Muscled soldier moving with haste, but smoothly, not at all looking rushed--but just as a man who does things quickly. He was out the door and turning sharply to give chase but he caught sight of her at a cart nearly instantly. That's what he gets for not sniffing ahead, eye-contact made and smile immediately turning up on handsome lips. He looked surprised, but then hid it, a chameleon turning shades to fit the situation as quickly as it came. Playing the role of mystified playboy quite well. "What're tha' odds..." It was raining a little, he didn't mind, only wincing a little under the assailing drops. "Din' 'spect to see you just wandering the city streets all alone, no escort or custodian, I have it." He said looking to the man looking for payment for whatever it was she had ordered. Offering over the chosen denomination that reached the bill quickest. <done>
ISLA: The vendor was a bit of an old flirt, but it was charming enough to not be annoying -- in fact, Isla rather enjoyed it. She was all smiles as the festive red cup was passed over after a healthy dollop of whipped cream had been added, when suddenly Hugh Crowne was coming up short and looking quite stunned to have run into her. She was surprised enough that the smile remained frozen on her face a few moments too long, then just dropped right off, leaving her blank faced as he went on. Custodian? Escort? He might have been the only one there to recognize the instant fire that leapt into her pretty brown eyes. "I assure you, Mr. Crowne, I'm quite capable of escorting myself. And I can pay for--" She was outnumbered on that though, the elderly vendor was quick to take Hugh's money, and even give him back the proper change before Isla could really finish the protest she was giving. Rather than making a scene about it though, she drew in a breath and gave the man a tight lipped smile of thanks, but the one she gave Hugh as she stepped away from the cart and back onto the sidewalk was vocal. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that." The cup in her hand grew far too hot at the places she was gripping it too tightly, and she shifted it in her hand some, but didn't bring it up to take a sip in favor of not burning her mouth. Only boneheads burned their mouths. Boneheads. She seemed to notice the rain then, and frowned up at the night sky some; tilting her face up into the orange din of the nearest street lamp to see the drops reflected in the light. "This doesn't seem like your usual part of town," she commented, off hand. The South Bank was heavy with tourists and students and starving artists and those of a mid to lower income. It wasn't her usual haunt either. -d-
HUGH: "Right? I must be stalking you." He mused aloud as he tilted shoulder and bent himself to move in alongside her, that of course all done after he denied the change and stuffed what he was handed into tip-cup. Money was easier to get rid of when you had more than your fair share. Hand was at the small of her back as limb stuck itself out for her to take a hold of if she so chose. The lion quite well-tamed for the public it seemed, even if he became a bit of the savage when the lights went down. Six foot three inch physique easily dwarfed the much smaller musician, both in height and girth. "So since we know what I was doing here, what is it.. that you were doing here?" Joking in his admittance to stalking her, but it did have to make one wonder, right? First he breaks into her house, then he tracks her down at a meeting, and now just popping up on the street. Had to be more than coincidence, right? Or maybe it just was fate. Believe in fate? Charming playboy smiled while head shifted to the side, wet hair starting to grow heavy and damp, soaking into the dark brown and making it look black as it slicked down his forehead. Walking the sidewalk at her pace, fingers settled right at her tailbone so she could always feel his warmth nearby, assuming she couldn't tell while she was drowned in his shadow. <done>
ISLA: Did .. Did Isla just blush? She did. In fact, his words flashed her gaze to him so quickly, just as quickly as the color rose up onto her cheeks. Never for a moment did she believe he was stalking her, but did he witness her own stalking? Sucking in a breath, her eyes dropped to the sidewalk between their feet; a gap he so easily closed by coming to her side. She cleared her throat a little, and told herself to take a step out of the way he touched her, to put more distance between them, but all on it's own her body seemed magnetic and drawn to his. All on it's own, her arm slid against his and her hand folded over his forearm where even through the thick of the clothing he wore she could feel his strength and his heat. It was another few moments, and halfway through the next of his words that she angled her attention back up to him -- a whole six inches in height difference. Was that really that much? Isla didn't believe so, but this was a woman who was quite used to either looking men directly in the eye her own level, or just above it. "Christmas shopping," she said automatically, though she held no bags, or even her own purse. She did have an umbrella though, and passing over her hot chocolate to him, she unlooped it from his wrist and traded it for the cup. "Here. No sense in either of us getting soaked." He did get her thinking though. It couldn't just be coincidence that he was out here, not after he made it clear he knew how to find her. She said nothing on it though, refusing to give into the insinuations at all, as they sat far too close to home in the reasons she was even out here in the first place. There were a line of shops adjacent to the cafe he'd come from ( she didn't know that ) and though it was way too close to closing time, Isla headed in their direction, with Hugh close by. Too close. Touching. It clouded up her senses, his heat and his proximity. "I'm surprised to find you still in the UK." -d-
HUGH: "I wasn't for the past week, or you certainly would have heard from me." He began quietly enough while taking her coffee and tilting himself aside while umbrella was handled by Isla. "Had a conference in Sydney, then had a friend stranded in Dubai, decided to visit them Thursday for that.. eh.. Thanksgiving nonsense, and then came back into town here. Probably going to be settling here for a bit until some of this business I'm handling gets finished, and it doesn't look like anything is going to be polished over anytime soon." Blanketing the conversation with the vague information that was truthful, but nothing significant. Plus, there was nothing interesting about 'work', right? Head had itself tilted at her mainly, attention focused both on the woman and the next step ahead, only so much as to make sure he didn't go stumbling into any uncovered manholes or stumble into a cart or table. "Christmas shopping, eh? Whatcha' get me, hm?" Said with close-mouthed smile and a rising crescent, climbing up forehead while he seemed to intrigue himself at the prospect of her getting him something. Really, the two hadn't spent much time together that wasn't gnashing of hips and panting, but the two had a chemistry. It was obvious, and it wasn't even manufactured. There was something there, and it's probably why things had spiraled so quickly into a romp in the opera house. Fingers on her back rose up towards the middle part, and dipped down to the point where fingertips resided towards the bottom of that coat, tips barely brushing over her bum. <done>
ISLA: Quietly, sure, but she heard him. Her nose wrinkled slightly when she traded her cup for the umbrella -- he was so much taller than she was, he could hold it! She wanted to ask him why she'd have heard from him, wanted to press the issue of it, wanted any excuse to rebuff the man, but she held her tongue. Instead, a brow lifted up, and she brought her gaze from the street to him. "They celebrate Thanksgiving in Dubai?" Curious was the Nordic accent that brought along the question. "Isn't that an American thing?" She gave a rather shifty look to the left, and then to the right, before leaning into his arm some to ensure he'd hear her when she lowered her voice. "I don't think we're supposed to talk about it here, though, shhh." Her hand lifted from his arm, to press her finger to her lips with the shush and she seemed to forget she was trying to maintain distance with the way she grinned up at him. Only to remember a moment later, and quickly turn her head to face the street ahead now that they'd crossed and joined the pedestrians here. Delicate tongue danced it's way across her bottom-heavy mouth, and his inquiry over his Christmas present brought a rather unladylike snort out of the woman who did things mostly ladylike while out in public. Until he'd come along. "You've proven yourself to be at the top of the naughty list. Naughty does not get presents," she haughtily informed him, liking far too much the way his hand traveled south -- which only made her words come out far more snooty than she'd intended. Her pulse quickened, and she no longer felt any of the chill that lingered in the December air, and she knew all at once that it was because of him. "What do you want with me, Mr. Crowne?" She hadn't entirely meant to ask the question out loud, but rather to mull it about in her own head, and form her own reasons. The were entirely too suited -- and unsuitable at the same time. -d-
HUGH: "She's an American, and she was stranded. Some passport issue or another, a friend of a friend, you know how those circles go. Anyway, I was in the area, or flying over it and.. Eh.. it doesn't matter." He waved it off right when she was shushing him and he blinked around a bit. Thanksgiving was a boring subject anyway. He shrugged shoulders beneath the leather of his coat and sniffed at the air lightly before hearing her last question and nearly laughing out loud. Instead he only grinned and the soundhung heavy on the tip of his tongue, never falling to her ear. "Why that's a peculiar question... I don't rightly no, is there going to be a quiz later? Or is this the quiz? I feel so unprepared." He mused again and fingers that teased at the bottom of her bottom closed. Hand finagling its way up and under that khaki colored coat and laying full upon that ass. Cheek cupped in his strong grip and given a squeeze while a breath was taken and held, feeling a flush of warmth rumble in his belly. Mm. He could've been content just like that, change out the drink for some cognac, maybe a cigar, and that ass in the palm of his hand. Thumb swiped in a wide arc, rubbing itself through leggings material right against the luscious curve. "Right now, what I want is to feel you wrapped around me. Is that too bold?" He queried and forced their trudging to go to a pause so dashing lecherous smile and crooking brow could be directed solely towards her beautiful face. <done>
ISLA: She. Given the warmth and the tingles, Isla waited for the spike of jealousy that was sure to come with the mention of spending time with another woman, and was more than satisfied when it didn't come. In fact, that satisfaction curved it's way into a closed-mouthed smile. One she hid behind her first sip of the hot chocolate, especially now that it'd cooled enough to not harm her lips or tongue. It did, however, leave a sliver of white cream at the corner of her upper lip -- one she didn't seem to notice, or had perhaps been distracted from by the possessive squeeze to her ass that came with his response to her blurted question. "I .. " All at once she felt incredibly naive and innocent in retrospect to what they'd done -- he'd already had what he was so boldly expressing, but that didn't stop the pink that settled bright into the apples of her cheeks, or the way her lashes fell to hide the deep set of wide brown eyes. All she could feel was the way his thumb moved against the thinness of her pants, and the streak of heat that it left on her skin beneath the garment. It wasn't until he pulled them into a stop that she lifted the lushness of those sooty lashes to meet his pointed stare. Her fingers dug into his sleeve as some other feeling spiked in the pit of her belly, and it had nothing to do with jealousy and everything to do with pure and selfish arousal. "I'm not sure the crowd would appreciate such a show," she started and forced herself to look away from him and make a joke of it, glancing about at the people who parted around the stationary couple like they were the Red Sea. It was a split second decision though, when it came. "Meet me at my flat. A half hour." The cognac he wanted came in the form of the color of her weighted stare pulling it's way back to the dark blue of his. -d-
HUGH: Hand rose upwards and cradled her chin and cheek, flat of his thumb prepared to cleanse her of the marring cream, but instead he leaned forward. Warm brush of his mouth, and a whiff of vanilla cologne, touched at her chin. Sweep of pink tongue sliding out touched her, the moist slick thing raising a line of heat up as the fluff was stolen from her mouth and tasted. He didn't even go through the motion of providing a kiss, just like the cat he was, taking what he wanted and moving along from that. "Half an hour, eh? Half an hour is a long time, but I think I can manage." He disengaged and broke from her like that. He stepped out from the protection of the umbrella she rose, and took the heat his were-body radiated from her. Shifting with a flinch at the rain and then moving off from the lovely Isla, not even stealing an extra glance despite the urge. Her place was only around ten minutes from here, three minute walk to the car, that gave him seventeen to make a stop. Plenty of time. And so off he was. Not again being heard of by her until two minutes till and red Porsche was pulling up to her place. Not parking off a hundred yards off and sneaking up this time, nor was there going to be any scaling the exterior of the building. This time he was up front about coming in through the front door. He was in the same outfit that he saw her on the streets in, but this time he had a bouquet of red-roses. A dozen. He wasn't the type to know what certain colors meant or amount, he just figured flowers were nice, and they were on sale at the gas-station he stopped off at on the way over. He also bought a bag of Christmas M&Ms, but those were in his pocket and those were for him. <done>