little bird.

Dahlia raised an eye brow, her lips pursing before giving the man a small smirk. “By now you should know that sexy and slutty is the only way I do things. And by the way, you’re far from fat.” She winked, before gasping as the taller jerked the flask from her hands. “Hey, we were supposed to share that!” She yelled, jumping before he turned his back. “Too bad, if we were sharing it this might just be a little less boring.” She spoke before stepping on her tip toes, her lips close to his ear before whispering. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

his mouth is damp with alcohol and laughter  &   the leather clad of his shoulder low just enough to offer her intrusion some room.    ”     i’m an only child.    ”    his blue eyes flicker; however briefly, to four boys bickering somewhere far in the distance   “   well, at heart.  --- sharing doesn’t come easy.    ”    he purrs,   willfully reeled into her taunt.    “    be more specific  &   you might put me in a sharing mood...   ”

A bout of amusement passed her faire features at his comment, “oh, I never would’ve guessed,” she teased,  the smirk on her lips could mistaken for something far more mischievous. Victoria had muted out any other customers; the faint cry of a small child in the corner, the couple arguing a few table behind her. It had all faded into a soft white noise as she brought her attention back to him. Sipping her tea as she ignored the obnoxious image of her husband in her head. Sliding the mug back onto the counter, she rolled her shoulder slightly as if to relieve the weight. “that look?” she laughed, bemused at how he phrased it. “No–– nothing of interest,” she admitted, it wasn’t a lie. The oaf had merely gotten under her skin a few hours ago. “Hmm, well I hope if I try to get away with murder I look more discrete about it,” her words light, you probably couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not. “Just a long morning.”

there’s some leeway in their public exchanges, subtlety resting solely on his reputation and the claims he stares at everybody that way ;  lids hanging sluggishly as though one might after a large meal   &   something akin to boyish mirth touching his lips.    “    right.  funny, that’s what medusa said right after my dad ‘fell’ down the stairs.    ”     there’s always a thine line between humor and seriousness with michael  &  they always seem to get tangled within each other. it’s a hard to get him to take anything serious for longer a minute, really - and even harder to tell apart what is what.  most of the time, it seems as though he makes it a point not to make it clear.   “    c’mom,  i have a surprise gift for you.    ”    he drums on the table hopping off the seat on that same beat,  but waits for her to follow suit.  he hadn’t actually dropped the bone quite yet - but he was trying to find a way around it.

Reagan is in her office looking over a case and going over the paper work was wondering if this is right something did feel off about taking it maybe it was nothing then she hears a knock on her door. “Come in.” she said not even looking up.

a messy crown of chestnut locks peeks through first ;    following a bright pair of cerulean eyes,  twinkling dimly under dull, office lighting.  “   hey, mr.kaufman.  ”   coughing out a rough, unpolished greeting that sounds all too unpolished  &   boyish, but expected by now.   “    are yooooou alone in here by any chance?   ”

“That might not be too bad if you ask me. I mean, I’m sure you would look pretty good in some in a Santa hat. I could be dressed up as an elf being a back up dancer.” She teased, letting out a small giggle. She needed to just forget. Forget her pain, forget the town. For one night, atleast. “You know, last I checked you weren’t my dad. So, I don’t need you to tell me what’s concerning and what’s not.” She spat, before returning back to her smile and pushing the flask against his chest. “I am. Drink up. Buttercup.”

his motionless gaze scrutinizes, narrowing to a thin line as it hovers in dead silence for a stretched out minute before spitting out an abrupt:   “    that better be a sexy santa  &  a slutty elf, because if you’re calling me fat, i swear to god dahlia -    ”    he snatches the flask from her hand without ceremony keeping it out her reach ( which mind you, wasn’t difficult given the noticeable discrepancy when it came to their heights )  “   okay, but it’s mine now, i’m never giving it back -   ”   a boyish giggle probs as he turns his back, taking a loud  gulp   &   grimacing, like a ritual, the least subtle way possible.

It was rare for something to distract the bombshell from idle chatter; it broke up her lengthy days of nothingness. Yet azure hues bored holes out the window, watching as streams of water slid down the window. Abysmal weather to match her mood–– how fitting. Vic exhaled the long breath that she wasn’t aware she had been holding; refusing to dwell on the fight with her idiot of a husband; deciding she would pop into some of her favourite stores on the way home and rack up his card–– not that he would notice.. A singular slim digit tucked back her messy blonde curls. Shifting her gaze back to her company, recovering the smile to her lips in only seconds as she quirked her brows. “What was that sorry?” Victoria purred softly as she hugged her hot mug into her frame. “I’m sure I’m away with the fairies,” she brushed off smoothly. “Has your week been as uneventful as mine?” she teased with a wink. Giving her drink a gentle blow before she took another sip.

pale knuckles withdraw from under his chin ,   an outstretched finger pressed against his temple bends like trampoline,  bearing the weight of his pensive head.   women who look pensive are dangerous,  he muses to himself,  looking somewhat amused by her spaciness ;   men will often settle for physical altercation, female aggression, however, manifests in far more devious ways. one can only hope it’s not aimed at them.  wrists flicker with casual dismissal,  that nonchalant ,   half-lidded gaze all too passive.    “    not that i don’t love talking about myself endlessly, but,    ”   chiming in as a casual taunt, as he would any other time,  he props his elbows on the table,  inspecting further, casual interest behind the veil of his glossy blue eyes.   “   is something going on?    you have that look on your face.   you know,    ”   his brows arch,   “     when they’re thinking about what to have for breakfast or how to get away with murder.   ”     it’s one  &   the same, really.

Dahlia couldn’t help but let out a small smirk at the other’s complaining, finding other peoples misery quite amusing. After all, misery does love company. “Oh, how sad that you have to be somewhere that you don’t want to be. I mean, you’re here now. You could always sneak out. Atleast you showed up at all.” She answered with a shrug, peeking into her pocket before pulling out a pink rhinestoned flask, holding it out to the other. “They might not have a lot of alcohol, but I never leave home without filling this baby up, but maybe you should watch your outbursts.”

“   i could...  but then she’d force me to write a christmas song, just to be petty. it’s the lesser of two evils.    ”    half-jest, half-not ;  he tightens his lips to a fickle simper that’s gone as soon as it appears. sure, she’s leeching of his misery - but isn’t everyone doing the same?   the dark clouds that’d set upon the hamptons after samantha’s body was found never really disappeared;  he could seldom remember sunlight and how it felt to close his eyes without being plagued by moroseness.   “    that’s highly concerning, you know?    ”    too young to be this way ;  but he’ll guess time and circumstance have woven tragedy into her.  it’s not an uncommon sight in the music industry - he used to joke they were always one step away from the ledge. grim, maybe, but not far-fetched.  “   but if you’re sharing -   ”