Chapter XVII

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You were shaking from anxiety as you attempted to apply your eyeliner. It wasn't long until you would see Coriolanus again.

For the past two hours, you had shaved your entire body, lathered yourself in lotion, and styled yourself as if you were painting; your face was the canvas.

It was a rule of thumb never to get involved with a coworker, but you both had broken it last night. Your lips longed to feel his again, and you knew that hunger for him was dangerous. If you joined together and then went up in flames, what would happen to your situation with Doctor Gaul?

It's not like she would terminate your assistance, but you knew Coriolanus had the power to. He probably had the power to suspend you, and yet you were willing to become involved with someone like that, someone who could end your career with a stroke of a pen.

You had decided to wear your hair slicked back in a ponytail to accentuate your facial features, your catlike makeup enough to leave anyone breathless. A simple dark blue dress that hugged you in all the right places sparkled in the warm light of your apartment, the neckline adorned with many precious gems, all white. You slipped on a pair of dangling silver earrings, the stones matching the ones on your dress. You felt so beautiful this evening, and you hoped he would feel the same.

Coriolanus had asked you to meet him around 6 pm at his chosen place, and it was nearing time for you to go. You grabbed a pair of black heels from deep inside your closet, realizing you had forgotten how to wear such shoes. The heel was long and thin, leaving you concerned for your ankles on the walk back.

You knew you'd have a few drinks, most likely bubbly concoctions made with ingredients you had never heard of. This sort of luxurious life was not one you lived, but you wouldn't mind pretending just for one night.

You grabbed your jacket from the hook on the back of your front door, taking a deep breath as you looked at your quaint little space. Though you were terribly nervous, this wasn't anything you realistically couldn't handle. You wrapped the warm coat around yourself and slung a purse over your shoulder, taking off without looking back.

The air was cold against your hair and legs, your overcoat doing little to help seal in some heat. All you could think of on the way there was how Coriolanus would react to seeing you again, especially after last night. The anxiety was eating you alive as you opened the doors to the castle he called a restaurant, praying that at least the food would be good.

You walked up to the hostess stand, seeing a young girl dressed rather extravagantly, almost to the point where it was an eye sore. "Hello," you greeted her, your throat closing in on itself with the realization you were now seconds from seeing Coriolanus again. "I'm meeting someone this evening. The reservation is under Snow, party of two."

The hostess nodded, ushering you to follow her through the packed tables to the one Coriolanus sat at, his eyes perking up as he saw you coming down the aisle. You thanked God for his reaction and thanked the hostess as she hurried off to alert your waiter.

Your hand reached for the back of your chair to pull it out away from the table to sit when Coriolanus stood up, practically sprinting across the table to pull the chair out for you.

"Thank you," you replied, your heart pounding like a drum.

He smiled. "Well, that wouldn't be wise of me not to seat you on a first date."

You began to choke on your spit, tucking the coughs behind a napkin so as not to bring alarm to the other patrons of the restaurant. You already looked out of place, and there was no way you were going to act like it as well.

"It's appreciated," you said through the coughs, finally finding your cup of water to calm your lungs. "You're a true gentleman."

Coriolanus reached into the side of his coat, pulling out a single white rose. He called for your hand, placing the rose in between your fingers very precisely. You looked across the stem to avoid any thorns, but there were none. He caught your surprise by that. "I didn't want to risk you pricking yourself. That would be an even worse mistake than the chair."

His eyes stared into your own with that longing, and you could feel your body react to him. You pushed your legs together to fight the urges, muffling them with more gratitude. You're in public, you reminded yourself, behave.

The waiter arrived at your table, offering a few kind greetings and listing off words that didn't register in your mind. You were too fixated on his hair, his clothes, and that smile that melted you from the inside out.

Coriolanus shook you back into focus. "White or red wine for tonight?" he asked, concerned that you hadn't heard his and the waiters' questions.

You gulped, debating on if you wanted to end the evening with tears on your face or his cum. "Red will be fine, thank you," you responded, Coriolanus grinning at your words.

The waiter smiled as well, but not in the same manner as he walked away to grab whatever foreign bottle Coriolanus had asked for. You tried to keep yourself composed as you looked at the menu, feeling his eyes all over you. Nothing looked or sounded remotely appetizing, especially with the price so boldly presented. Maybe a tiny salad with nothing but lettuce and dressing? God, now you sounded like Alice.

"You look lovely tonight," Coriolanus said, his eyes still locked onto your face, body, hair, dress. You didn't want to look up at him at risk of what you might do or say. If you had things your way, you'd let him fuck you on the table right now.

"Thank you," you responded, trying to keep your eyes off him. "You clean up nice."

He laughed at your attempt to return the compliment. "If you think I look so nice, why won't you look at me?" he responded, calling your bluff.

You laughed nervously as the waiter returned with the bottle of wine, such a dark and seductive-looking red. It was a good thing he ordered alcohol, or better yet, liquid courage. The waiter filled both your glasses, allowing each to taste before he spoke.

"Have we decided on dinner for this evening?" he asked. The question sent panic down your spine. Coriolanus answered yes before you could interject.

"We'll split this," Coriolanus said, pointing to an item on the menu so only the waiter could see. He nodded, grabbing both of your menus before wandering off.

You stared at Coriolanus in annoyance. "What did you order me?" you asked as you took a sip, which turned into a swig. The wine was incredible and unlike anything you had drank before. He laughed at your expression to its taste.

"Nothing you won't enjoy," he reassured. "I promise."

Silence befell you both as he dove into his glass of wine, and you began to take in the gorgeous scenery around you. Stunning golden chandeliers surrounded by hand-painted artwork decorated the ceilings above you. The glassware, silverware, and practically everything was top-end. You grabbed your glass of wine and sunk into your chair in embarrassment. You didn't belong in a place like this, and that reality was setting in deeper by the minute.

Coriolanus reached across the table, taking your hand in his own. He stroked his thumb along yours, offering reassuring glances. "You're fine," he whispered, keeping his words hidden from all those around so only you could hear them. "We belong here. This is the life that we deserve."

You smiled back at him as a loud crash sounded from behind you. Before you could turn around, Coriolanus grabbed you by the arm and dragged you behind your table, covering your own body with his own. Your face was on the floor as screams and shattering glass sounded, followed by gunshots. Coriolanus was pressed against you, telling you to lay down and pretend to be dead.

"Lay down and be quiet," he asserted, his body pressed against your back in an attempt to shield you. "Rebels are here, and they're armed."

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