"Then another chance at an evening stroll? Maybe an opera? Or a gallery?" He feels as if he could fluster even from that small touch, but somehow manages to breathe and keep it together?
"Ah, well, my property borders a stream, I suppose you might call it a meadow." He looks a little uncomfortable about saying it though. In truth it isn't just bordering, it's in the middle of the plot, but he'd rather downplay it.
"Right, he umm, mentioned you were a lord," Paloma awkwardly clarifies before he has to. Compared to the Kindred equivalent he's damn near harmless in fang, ego, and influence. At least to her.
Her thumb flicks at his cuff. "How should I dress?"
"Y-yes, well, indeed." He could have been more eloquent. Actually said something about it, but it seems like it's particularly strange and stuck-up to a foreigner.
"You wouldn't need to do anything in particular, however you like!"
Close one. Got to watch out for public affection; a slip could complicate work. Not cost her job (for which she's underqualified in everything but mind-bending Toreador ability) but strain the relationships she's carefully cultivated? Definitely. Not everyone can be Presenced.
It is truly a mystery as to why the next student finds Paloma humming, the dark cloud that had hovered over the desk dispersed without a trace.
Jekyll thinks he's supposed to wait until closing to speak with her further, so it's fine if he goes for a bit of a nap, right? At least he puts his head down on the desk and doesn't just fall asleep wherever, accidentally. And it's just for a little while. Soon enough he's studying thoroughly!
Jekyll thinks right. Nobody questions his poring over texts and figuratively burning the midnight oil when he's a notorious obsessive. They let the man study.
And they trickle out well before closing time actually passes, having what they need in armfuls of notes or a fresh book to read. Her desire to flutter over to where he's camped increases exponentially; it feels like every minute rolls by like molasses down a brick wall.
There! Two in the morning! She stretches to appear nonchalant, but the intensity of Paloma's eyes betray her. "Closing!" she calls, pretending not to know the library is vacant but for her and Jekyll. The light switches are next-- he'll be prepared. Won't he?
Paloma studies the hand she'd gone for the light switch with. Is it shaking? Is she so anxious?
They meet by the podium-shaped desk area, where she takes advantage of a scheduled disc change to confuse the security footage. No one will find out, and if they do, tiny mishaps like that can be resolved with choice 'magic'.
Above the computer monitor which brightens her head like a beacon for him to follow, her eyes lift and search for Jekyll.
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"A stroll," she sounds out, imagining. "Somewhere with a meadow? Do you know a place? I could bring light."
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"Ah, well, my property borders a stream, I suppose you might call it a meadow." He looks a little uncomfortable about saying it though. In truth it isn't just bordering, it's in the middle of the plot, but he'd rather downplay it.
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"Right, he umm, mentioned you were a lord," Paloma awkwardly clarifies before he has to. Compared to the Kindred equivalent he's damn near harmless in fang, ego, and influence. At least to her.
Her thumb flicks at his cuff. "How should I dress?"
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"You wouldn't need to do anything in particular, however you like!"
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and catches herself in time to dust imaginary dirt from his chest, nodding briskly.
"Then I'll discuss it with you later tonight. Yeah?"
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He steps away a bit reluctantly, and sneaks a look over his shoulder, but finally he does so...
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It is truly a mystery as to why the next student finds Paloma humming, the dark cloud that had hovered over the desk dispersed without a trace.
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And they trickle out well before closing time actually passes, having what they need in armfuls of notes or a fresh book to read. Her desire to flutter over to where he's camped increases exponentially; it feels like every minute rolls by like molasses down a brick wall.
There! Two in the morning! She stretches to appear nonchalant, but the intensity of Paloma's eyes betray her. "Closing!" she calls, pretending not to know the library is vacant but for her and Jekyll. The light switches are next-- he'll be prepared. Won't he?
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"Coming! I'm coming!" don't turn the lights off yet.
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They meet by the podium-shaped desk area, where she takes advantage of a scheduled disc change to confuse the security footage. No one will find out, and if they do, tiny mishaps like that can be resolved with choice 'magic'.
Above the computer monitor which brightens her head like a beacon for him to follow, her eyes lift and search for Jekyll.