open to: m/f/anyone connection: ex, on again / off again fling, fwb, spouse of his employer (he’s a bodyguard), idk whatever works!!
“Why did you come here?” Lance asked, head tilting some and his brow creasing for a moment before he took a slight step closer to the other person, eager to touch them, to feel them close again. He desired them, craved them, wanted nothing more than to taste them again. It felt like there was more to this visit of theirs, late in the evening with no announcement of arrival– Lance didn’t mind, he’d been thinking of them and for a moment, he believed in his hesitation he communicated that they had possessed his mind not too long before they’d arrived. The man hoped that they were there for him, to get lost in passion like they had been before.
“That....”
Róisín Stewart took a deep breath in, then slowly let go of it in a sigh. “is a rather bang-on, brutal question oul wolfie boyo.” Her fingertips traced along the top of the drink he’d offered her - a whiskey neat, just the way she liked it - without knowing she’d gotten sober. It had been quite a while since they’d talked. Lo, she took a sip of the caramel-shaded liquor, a satisfied sigh leaving her wetted lips and her lids fluttering shut for a second. She scratched her cheek then ran a hand through her long locks, tucking them behind her ear. The glass shook in her other hand. Tremors of fear, or just from tucking her hair?
Her lobes were adorned with dangly, silver and diamond earrings and her nails were like melted gold. Her makeup was more on the natural side, if she was even wearing any, and her mahogany hair looked a little unkempt compared to her normal straight locks. Her doe eyes finally met his, a little old mascara clumps smeared beneath. She pursed her pallid lips firmly, sniffled, and continued after finishing the glass in a long swig.
“I came ‘ere because I’m leavin’.”
Unbeknownst to him, she was in immediate danger, and coming here was bound to be a mistake - she had slowed down enough to potentially be caught but she couldn’t cut ties, not yet. She wasn’t strong enough. She barely took a half of a breath before continuing.
“I’ve grown tired of the, of the,” she cleared her throat, “- the bullshit. I’ve grown tired of Ireland. I want to see someplace else. I, err, I actually came because I’ve come to, I’ve come to - ahhh” She stood, biting her lip until it turned white. Her hands rested on her hips and she still hadn’t huffed a full hit of air, not giving him much time to think. “My car’s banjaxed and I’m tired of being a dosser and a floozy and-” A tear very obviously rolled down her cheek, stopping her for a moment when it touched her lip, the first moment she’d breathed in a while. “And now I’ve brought a holy show to your seomra suí and I think I’m ossified off that glass of brown liquor and I’m absolutely mortified to inform you but I’ve aah fallen for you badly so... stop acting the maggot and riddle me, would you gae with me? ” Her eyes matched her words, and she grew even more pallid at her confession. “I’m leavin’ with or without you.”
She didn’t want to tell him, but she’d picked up a stalker after seeing him for a while; someone had followed her home from a bar after their third date. They had been friends long before, and she usually wasn’t open to turning friendships romantic, but he was a keeper and she could tell - plus they’d fallen apart in the years of friendship, so he was sort-of distant anyway. His musk filled the air and she finally took another deep breath, shutting her eyes once more. The room smelled peaty and familiar. She licked her lips again, before another nibble. Blood trickled into her mouth. Small veins appeared beneath her eyes but were gone with another deep breath. This was news to him as far as she knew - had she been turned into a vampire or something else in the month the frail human was away from him? She ghosted him, but the stalking didn’t stop, and now... now she was a creature of the night.
She was so cold. She craved his steamy touch against her. She had no doubt he had smelled her out already, or maybe when the blood left her lip, or surely he saw the veins she felt like sandpaper beneath the skin. What if he didn’t accept her? What if he didn’t come? She needed someone to protect her. She wanted to have someone she loved Stateside. She turned away and wrapped her arms around herself. She just wanted to be held by him.
She had already procured documents for the both of them with her inheritance money, sold her family’s lands to a distillery and a barley farmer, and had enough money to keep them going for a while. She grabbed something out of her rather large bag. She was holding a bag of American cash and two dossiers in her hands when she turned around. “I--” She started again, but he was already talking. She hadn’t caught the first half because she was panicking, but now she was tuned in. “Sorry, continue, please.”
