cagedinflesh: (Default)
dr cope and mr seethe ([personal profile] cagedinflesh) wrote in [community profile] moritat2015-08-17 04:59 pm

Victorian weenie au

 Melodica playing in the distance
gehennawind: ([painting] no one ever dies)

[personal profile] gehennawind 2015-11-02 07:34 am (UTC)(link)
To hear she deserves anything so fine as grace and fluidity. It'd be enough to stop her heart.

What's fascinating is the color he turns. Like someone went and slapped him on both cheeks until he was ruddy from it. Or he'd been drinking (she knows it's not so).

Paloma says nothing until the dance brings them closely private enough for her to sneak in a question unheard by passing dancers, "If you must, please, make an excuse." Clearly he's just so embarrassed by this display ........
gehennawind: (that boy's a slag)

[personal profile] gehennawind 2015-11-02 07:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Initially she expects he's leaning in to be secretive, that he's got something to share unintended for the perked ears around them. As he moves, her eyes slide a little to his left and catch Samantha messing around with her turtle brooch, watching them bemusedly.

He catches her unawares and it's enough to scald a wretch immediately to attention. Paloma gives him a warm welcome to the mouth without thinking terribly much about the guests' opinions, or the dancers who don't miss a step.

Ripples of titters overtake various groups of people. She wets her lips instinctively. "Kiss an old widow and she may beat you with her fan."
gehennawind: (that boy's a slag)

[personal profile] gehennawind 2015-11-02 08:42 pm (UTC)(link)
As their fellow dancers leave, some alone and others in twos, Paloma stays with her gentleman beet.

She does the opposite of hitting him (never, ever!) and touches his elbow with some dim awareness of trembling. "But you have not, Harry. Worse if they see you so."
gehennawind: ([painting] no one ever dies)

[personal profile] gehennawind 2015-11-02 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Somehow Paloma doesn't believe it's any of those. And ... show gratifying, knowing she's not by herself in badly timed impulsiveness.

She goes with him to seats set against a wall heavy with paintings. For once they don't distract her from present company. Reluctance to separate keeps the light weight of her fingers on him; she tries to show him her guilty pleasure by tilting her chin up near as allowed.

"Trouble follows me with or without you, and I would happy-- happily remember this dance and your ..." Well. The kiss.