Vintage Vanquish (boyxboy)

[7] Smoke.

please read chapter 3. I posted it recently, having forgotten to a while ago. please and sorry~

The parlor was once again the way it had been when Felix first arrived, approximately a week ago. Smoke flooded it and leaked out the tall, Victorian windows almost comically, only to be absorbed by the starry sky.

Felix himself had part in the process of slowly, but surely wearing off the fading flower pattern on the wallpapers. He held a cigarette in one hand, between his pointer and middle finger, and was checking his poker cards with the other.

"Oh but I just don't like it on you." Otilia complained for the nth time, taking a seat on Felix's armrest and running a finger under his chin. He moved his head after her touch and let his eyes flutter.

"Awh, I really tried to look nice for the gathering." Felix pouted at his wear: a slim fit suit, with grey pants and vest and a dark red shirt. Next to the green tie, his colors fit the poker theme just right.

"Not the suit!" Otilia giggled, slapping, more like brushing, his chest. She's fancied quite some wine. "I meant this." she took the cigarette from between his lips and placed it between her own, taking a drag.

Her full, babyish cheeks went in as she sucked, the shadow that traced them offering her an air of maturity, accentuated by the cigarette. Parting her tiny, plump lips, she let the smoke trail out on its own, forming curls and waves, before ruining them by blowing out.

"So that's how it is." Felix laughed faintly. Otilia winked his way and skipped off the armrest to go and sit on Pascalopol's instead.

She let her arms fall on his shoulders as she leaned to look at his cards, giggling at what she saw. Felix could remember her mentioning that the man was an old friend of Eustache and that he tended to spoil her ever since she was a kid, but their proximity was unnerving.

Otilia started pointing at the cards and whispering strategies to the senior man. Felix looked away to observe uncle Simon as he knitted. The thin, straight strands of hair covered his eyes until he raised his head to look at him void of expression.

"Felix, your turn."

The young man halted and sketched a smile at Aglee, Simon's wife and Eustache's sister. It stood little chance to her glare and so he let it drop and focused on his cards, raising their corner to remember his pair.

After playing with the chips a little, he darted a few at the middle of the table. "Raise."

With that, he leaned on his backrest and crossed his arms, glancing back at Simon. The old man was once again focused on the task at hand.

If anyone would be willing to tell him what the deal about Vancouver was, it had to be the poor senile. The only problem was catching him alone. No one trusted him enough to let him by himself for one second.

Felix took another drag of his cigarette and sighed the smoke out before tapping away the ash. When it was once again his turn, he observed the changes around the table and decided to fold, pushing away his cards.

"Ah Felix, you're no fun backing off so quickly!" Otilia complained, swinging the leg she kept on top of the other. Pascalopol chuckled as he rubbed his two chins. He had about three rings on his thick fingers, flashing despite the dull light of the lamp. The man was still in the game.

Felix sighed shortly. "Changed my mind." he took the cards back.

Everyone at the table took the time to laugh long and loud.