moritat | Victorian weenie au

He smiles. It might be mistaken for a smirk, but surely that's just the way his face is?

"And mine. It has been so long since I have had any other company, I had quite forgotten myself." Not entirely a lie - he has been very much alone, until Hyde appeared only a few nights ago. And he hasn't really had anything like a conversation with anyone. Even if it's nothing at all like what he implies. "Shall I walk you home? One never knows what sort of vile man is lurking about at night."

The way his everything is. She withdraws, expressionless aside from a barely responsive smile in reply.

"If you would like. I feel I may not be the best at talk, but I do not say no to this." Paloma stands, casting her line of sight around for the discarded hat and veil.

Spying it nearby, Hyde stoops to scoop up and offer the hat and veil to her, one arm held behind his back as he does. "Here you are. Although it seems a shame to hide such beauty."

Ah. Most gentlemanly. And the flattery-- Harry's taught her a lesson not too unlike what Carlos did, hasn't he? She should have learned it the first time, or not forgotten it.

Unmoved but laughing thinly, "A kindness! No need for that. My thanks are yours." Yes, thanks, she'll gingerly retake and cradle them.

For a horrible couple of moments, she can't do a thing except gaze dully at his throat.

"The walk is very long. Perhaps a cab."

If the lesson is don't trust anyone, then yes.

"Of course." With a dip into a small bow, he offers his arm to her, gesturing to the door. Alone jn the back of a cab might be even better.

The lesson is, in fact, not to trust anyone.

Were she a frail human girl with everything to fear from a man alone in the backseat of a cab, this arrangement might distress her further. As fate would have it, there isn't a Goddamned injury he can inflict on her within the vehicle she cannot do a hundred times worse unto Hyde-- she'll take his arm and follow and wait and step inside with him, disguised and dead.

Riding in silence, other than to give directions, is her first inclination. Unsaid, obviously.

They both are lucky he has to pay mind to Jekyll's life, otherwise closed off in the back, driver outside and separated by sturdy walls, he would not have been much of a gentleman. Although he does stay awfully close, even sitting there. "I should like to see you again, Mrs. Vasquez..."

The longer he sits without behaving inappropriately in ways she can put a name to, the more she eases up, until her ankles fold together casually and her head leans against the wall of the cab. Paloma tilts an ear toward him to gesticulate that he's got her undivided attention.

"I should not mind seeing you, Mr. Hyde, even if our circles do not cross."

What's there to lose?

"Do they not? We seem to have Jekyll in common." Although they certainly won't be seeing eachother at one of his gatherings for more than one reason. "Perhaps supper, or else a show - the opera?"

He's immeasurably talented at sidetracking her. Paloma knows she must have heard him correctly, so she doesn't gape and go begging your pardon please say again?

"You believe a husband would not care if we appear together, at a show?" she says at last.

"It depends upon how jealous the husband may be. I would see no cause, can two people not enjoy a performance together?" He knows how it would look. But he's also hoping she doesn't. If it ruins her reputation, fine. He has no reputation to be lost and wouldn't care anyway.

Automatically, "It is not good if he sees my eyes wander."

Then she remembers: the damage to her reputation can be undone with a few direct conversations, continued use of vampiric influence, and most of all, it means nothing. What has she to lose? Carlos possesses the entirety of her life.

Paloma's jaw sets stubbornly, and in the dark she turns to Hyde. "Yet I have not seen many shows. My gratitude for your company."

"Then what better opportunity. Or better company for myself?" He takes her hand to kiss it. "You have my deepest appreciation for honouring me with your agreement."

"We shall be students in society, us two," she relates quietly. The clatter of hooves outside sound off, unbroken and ongoing. Letting her hand stay held, she notes the uncertain thrill that comes with it-- and the spike of revulsion. The duality of Edward Hyde is the strangest case.

"What better way to learn?" He smiles, covering her hand fully with his other. Then, in a low voice, he speaks up again after a pause. "...I know you are taken but I must confess I find you incredibly enchanting."

Paloma mirrors the sincerity of his smile.

"Pretty words."

Enough. It doesn't matter, it doesn't change a thing, everything stays the same whenever their driver rolls into the street outside their destination and she goes back to Hell. Reading the base undercurrent of his flirtation, she acts, and kisses Hyde directly.

Ah, there's a fine start. He could grin to himself except that he's too busy returning her kiss, with quite some enthusiasm. At first he tries to keep up some amount of appearances, but that isn't his purpose, he is the lack of restraint.

But breaking off, he excuses himself for it. "Forgive me- I cannot imagine how any man would control himself around you." So much bullshit.

In the beginning she's detached enough to stand outside themselves and watch, but underestimating his intensity is her first problem. Paloma's quite dismayed to discover her hair mussed, the hat and veil on the cab floor, fingers a-tangle in Hyde's collar and lapel, and her fangs just itching to say hello.

Because it's so dark, the huge black of her pupils may slip past notice. She does not breathe. "Dios te salve, Maria."

Her reaction is all the more sweet. So is seeing the disorder they've caused so quickly. He'd like to see more, to ruin her hairstyle entirely and maybe for other articles to join the veil on the floor. He can't help himself, Hyde kisses her again - how can he not, he remembers sleeping with her, weeks gone by, but fresh in the memory. And whether or not he can have it, that's what he wants again, he'll get as close to it as he possibly can.

The man's a barbarian. Savage. And although in her heart Paloma wishes to be precious and treasured, she also wishes to be free in her savageness and ferocity. That desire for freedom recognizes kindred in Hyde more than she is ready to acknowledge.

He cannot know the danger or strength in the hand clapped to his cheek for something to hold onto-- besides her seat, which at any moment she worries will disappear from underneath herself if this keeps on. "Sir," she tries at the next break, "Sir, Mr. Hhhyde," oh good God.

He doesn't want to stop, and he very nearly doesn't, he very nearly forgets can't go on without permission, for his own safety. That this is someone who matters to some extent in society, and knows his other half. His hands have begun to stray, moving down her waist. But finally he does halt, even if he doesn't pull away. "Yes?" He has to wait for an answer before going at it again...but that doesn't mean he can't find his way to her neck in the meantime.

Paloma's fangs slide out of their sheath with a small wet sound only her ears will pick up. Her quick inhale is audible.

"Mr. Hyde," she strains to enunciate clearly at the cab ceiling, doing the opposite of pushing him away; he'd found a pleasant spot to be and one of her dangerous hands helps guide him higher, beneath the edge of her jawline. "This is unwell, for you."

"Is it? It seems very well, to me..." She is dangerously close to allowing him, and so he ventures to place a hand on her thigh. Over the fabric, as much as he'd like to slip under her skirts.

Her teeth are closing in and he cannot even begin to realize the threat they pose. Paloma's lips brush over his ear on their slow and inexorable path to his throat.

The cab floor rocks on a difficult street, but she's not to be dislodged. Very soon, Hyde won't know anything. "The driver is taking me home."

"Yes, of course he is...", he breathes, that doesnt matter, he wants her and Hyde is not someone to be deterred. "Shall I ask for a detour?"

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