I reach for another glass only to find he quickly takes it out of my hand, saving me from myself I suppose, holding it out of reach of my height as I stretch on my toes to grasp at it. "Don't be an ass!" I complain.
I know I need to stop, I know I need to get a handle on my drinking but it's easier than dealing with my problems. I don't want to listen to 'Nicolas', I want to be Nic again and the drinks help me accomplish that.
"Mmm... I think you've had enough." Verando sets the glass back on a passing tray, sighing at me as one does when their children misbehave. I stave off the pout, deciding against proving him right and taking the moment to hunt for my next victim.
The place was crawling with waiters, surely another opportunity wasn't far off.
Jerry's wife hides her laughter and yet her eyes bore into me as if I was a scandal waiting to happen, "Mr.Mercer, your fiance is delightful. A king. Is that a joke in Romania?"
I narrow my eyes at her and open my mouth to speak only to have him put his arm around my waist and pull me firmly to his side. The joke was these peasants and their mock party, a true Galla would never be so boring.
I so desperately want to point it out but as his grip tightens on me, I come to reality and remind myself that I can't reveal my true identity. Maybe I should stop drinking, at least for now. My buzz was holding strong, that should be enough to keep me loose, to encourage me to have more fun.
"Oh yes. Romanians are very funny with their... humor.. and what have you. If you'll excuse us." He drags me away and I resist the urge to call back to them that it wasn't a joke. My body feels heavy as I sway against him, my grimace turning into a grin as I tilt my head up to peer at him through my lashes.
His shoulder feels stronger and fuller, I can feel it just by tracing my hands over him. Tracing back to those moments on the front lawn when he was shirtless before me, I entertain other forms of relaxation as I toy with the button on his jacket. "When did you start drinking like this?"
Drinking? Surely he wasn't talking to me? I take in his scent, pressing impossibly close as I turn around in his arms and reach for his neck. "I'm more fun when I drink. Also, sometimes, I cannot count. Whoops! Too many." I chuckle at myself, closing my fingers behind him and catching my lower lip in my teeth. "You should come down to my level. I'll tell you a secret." I hit him with my best smolder, raising an eyebrow as I tempt him.
Rolling his eyes at me, I come to realize I'm going to have to work much harder if I want to get anywhere.
"I'll have none of your secrets, thank you. Nobody with an expression like that has anything good to say."
A group passes us and he carefully slips out of my arms to avoid the prying eyes.
"There is dinner in the other room; perhaps we can sober you up with some actual food. I'd rather not leave just yet, though, if you're going to keep blurting our secrets..." He trails off, allowing me to come to my conclusions. I wasn't yelling out secrets; I was making friends!
Friends I didn't even honestly want! Guiding me through the crowd with a healthy gap of air between us, I'm reminded of my time in the court and sigh at the memory of being so well respected. Every turn we take, people stop us to recognize his talents, and it seems to be the same conversation on repeat.
People are amazed by his accent, then equally so by my own dialect. They applaud our relationship, some calling it 'sexy' as if we're doing it for the publicity, which is something I couldn't even fathom, although it does strike a chord in my drunken state. We could be whatever we wanted in this time; there were no stipulations against our sexuality.
We could truly be together, at a public event; it was quite a novelty if I allowed myself to appreciate it. The more people see us, the more times I hear my introduction, and the more I begin to pine for the man who requested my hand more times than I could count. He could truly belong to me if I wanted him; we could get married and make a life here.
I'm brought out of my musings as others seem disappointed that two such as ourselves would waste our lives on each other, yet it doesn't bother me as it used to. The majority of opinions seem amazed at the man's ability to sing and the novelty of a live concert just for them. "Senator Campbell." Verando nods to a graying man who looks to be in his mid-fifties; his physique surprises me considering most people in this room don't seem to take fitness into consideration.
"Delilah." His wife extends her hand to shake.
"My Fiance, Nicolas." So he must know this man. I note the slight wince on his face, the way he seems to squint away from the light. "Are you feeling alright, Senator?"
The man nods, waving him off. "Must have stood too close to the band. Beautiful singing, Verando. I appreciate the donation of your lovely voice. Could I encourage you to do us one more favor?"
"It would entirely depend on the task." It makes Senator Campbell chuckle, shaking a finger at him.
"This one. Not going to pull the wool over his eyes. It's harmless, a simple.. er.. date. A couple of us gentlemen are going to auction ourselves off for a dinner, should bring in a healthy sum and assure our Mistress can come to our land safely and continue her work."
I'm not sure how I feel about that, another person having dinner with what I'm slowly starting to consider mine again. Suddenly he pauses, his eyes falling on me. "Do I know you? Haven't I seen you before?"
What do I say? I hedge; I suppose my hair color and skin tone gave me away as there aren't many men who look as I do. Verando quickly clears his throat to draw attention back to himself.
"I would be delighted to offer such a service. Who am I to deny a woman the pleasure of my company?" He smiles sarcastically, his voice dripping with contempt.
Senator Campbell nods, distracted.
"Join us for dinner, the event is about to begin, and maybe some food will help eliminate this headache. I do wish to speak to you about your political interests, what with early voting coming along and the world looking like it might not end..."
"Oh, we really-" Sitting across from someone who recognizes me might not be the best idea.
"I insist!" He cups his hand behind us, gesturing us forward. I take a deep breath and put my hand over my mouth.
"Oh no! I think I'm going to be sick!" I blurt out.
Verando holds me at arm's length, rejecting the idea of being vomited on, yet catching onto the look in my eye he seems to accept my scenario.
"Excuse me!" I quickly rush off through the crowd, and I hear Verando excuse himself behind me, I rush towards the restroom and push through the door hurriedly, pausing to see myself in the multitude of mirrors.
What a strange place, with the tile and the strong scent of artificial flowers. My flushed cheeks and slightly unbuttoned shirt give me quite the appearance as I run my hand through my hair. I could get used to this era; it wasn't often I felt so confident. Verando shoves the door open behind me.
"That was close... damn, I really wanted to talk with him, but we can't risk him getting too deep into your appearance just yet. Let's wait just a bit, then go back, he might be a bit more drunk, and we can have a real conversation. He's hard on his alcohol- Why did you come in here? Are you actually sick?"
I turn on him, taking him in with the gentle lighting and his eyes playing off the depth of the color in his suit. My hand grasps his tie, knotting it once around as I near him. Walking into him, I press him back against the door, reach over, and lock it.
"Oops..." I breathe.
He meets me with an unamused expression, glancing around casually as he takes inventory of our surroundings. "As romantic as a restroom is, you are quite intoxicated."
"Mmm, I think I've sobered up a bit from the fabulous acting..." I pull him down towards me with a firm tug; I feel the yield in his body as my hand unbuttons the front button of his jacket and slides up the plains of his abdominals. I relish in the feel of him, warm under my fingers. "A bit more activity might do just the trick, if you want to sober me up that is."
I rake my eyes over him, savoring every inch of him as he deliberately places his hand over mine to stop my exploring fingers.
"You're being quite difficult. How can I take you anywhere when you act this way with a married man?" I can sense the weakness, that he wants me just as badly as I want him. "You're suggesting I defile you in a public restroom? Have you no shame?"
I shake my head, stretching up to place a kiss on his jaw, purposefully missing his lips. "Not a scrap... I think I need to be taught some manners."
He growls low in his throat as his lips hover over mine. Finally, when I feel as though I might burst from the anticipation, he dips as he claims my mouth with his own. I writhe against him as he invades my mouth with his tongue. I lean on his tie to deepen the kiss, forcing him to lift me up onto his body if he wishes to remain upright. "You're really tall." I manage. I feel my back shoved against the door as he spins us around.
"Keep quiet." His voice is rough with restraint as his lips find my neck, dragging his tongue from the base of my neck to my ear before giving me a firm bite that elicits a rather feral response in me. I moan, clutching at him, and he chuckles at me. "Hush!" He commands, and I put my hand over my mouth, panting as I cling to him.
"You have on too many clothes." I remind him desperately, shutting my eyes as I melt into the feeling of the stubble grazing my skin, only to inhale sharply as he grinds into me. My hand swings over my head to support myself, slamming into the door to produce an echoing bang that earns me the look I've been craving.
His eyes meet mine, the burning intensity conveying back what I've been feeling since he stepped foot into this room. "Take me." I plead as I kiss him, slower this time, building as I release his tie to slide my hand down between us.
There's a firm knock on the door. "Is everything alright?"
Verando curses under his breath. "Yes. Just had a bit too much to drink." I grope him through his pants as he presses his lips to the top of my head in defeat.
"Oh! Mr.Mercer! Well.. ermm.. this door isn't supposed to be locked, sir."
"Right. My mistake." He allows me to slide down his body, I feel deflated, denied something that I didn't even realize how badly I wanted it until it was right in front of me. We both pant, breathless from the almost coupling that could have reunited us. I pull him to me by his tie, my hands knotting in his hair; I find his mouth and plead against his lips to ignore the man at the door.
"Wear more ties. This is so damned hot..." I pop the buttons in the center of his chest, kissing the exposed skin and raking my teeth over his pectoral.
"Breath, Nic."
"Go to hell." I retort, unwilling to release him just yet. But, I must; the man outside won't wait forever. I reach to unlock the door, giving up on the fantasy of christening this unworthy restroom. "I'm not finished with you."
The expression he responds with is not one that conveys I'll get what I want out of him at the end of this night. I can't allow myself to think about it right now as I fasten the buttons back to their assigned holes.
"Nic... I don't think we should-" He's interrupted by a scream, and he's out the door before he can complete his thought. Pulling me along, we rush through the crowd towards the dinner hall, where Senator Campbell is writhing on the ground, clutching his stomach as he screams again.
"Help! Someone has poisoned him!" Delilah sobs.
Verando freezes, taking a slow inhale. "He's not been poisoned. He's..." his voice lowers as we near the man. I feel the heat coming off of him in droves, and I feel my sobriety returning to me. Kneeling down beside the man, Senator Cambell practically snarls at him, only to pause when he sees who it is. "It's alright, Johnathan. Just take a few deep breaths and try to calm down."
"What.. Verando? Ugh. My head.." He clutches his head, gritting his teeth.
"Calm down and just focus on your breathing." Verando's hand rests on the man's wrist. "Pulse is elevated." He murmurs to me.
"Do you think he's trying to shift? Is he a lycan?" My voice is barely audible.
"A what..?" Johnathan responds, flinching once more.
We both stared at him in shock that he could hear me. Verando pulls him to his feet, "Delilah, please come with us."
"My husband needs a hospital!" She pleads as Verando shoulders the writhing man. I tend to the wife as we drag him out into one of the rear rooms of the building, followed by a drove of people and press. Flashing lights surround us as we're asked a barrage of questions, and Verando slams the door behind us as we pile into the dark office.
"Your husband doesn't need a hospital; he needs to get a hold of himself." Verando scowls, grabbing the man by the collar and yanking him to his feet. "Why didn't you tell me you were a lycan?"
Johnathan cries out, shutting his eyes tightly. "I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Do you feel your body temperature rising? Feel that burn in your bones? That's the wolf trying to come out; when did you get bitten? Who sired you?"
"Stop! No one 'sired' anyone! My husband isn't a beast!" Delilah shouts at us.
"Randy, maybe he's not a lycan? Maybe you're wrong?"
"No, he's a lycan, alright, I can smell it. A bloody coward is hiding in this vessel while the world burns." Shoving the man to the ground, he stands over him. "Or maybe he's rabid, and we must put him down." He pulls out a gun, and Delilah screams; I grab onto her firmly. "What's it going to be 'Johnathan'?"
"Please! Don't hurt him!" I cringe at the shrill scream in my ear.
"Alright!" He pants. "Alright... please.. if this is what this is, I truly don't know. It's been happening for a few weeks now. I get these horrible headaches, and I get very hot, is... is this what you are? Is this what I am? A monster?"
Verando stares him down for a moment longer before relaxing the gun. "A lycan, not a bloody monster. What do you mean it only started a few weeks ago?"