the commander lifts a stark eyebrow as liv slumps into his lap, weaving herself around him like a snake in a pomegranate tree, a dangerous feline toying with her prey. the smell of alcohol on her breath, the unfocused gaze — it had worked on lasher as a young man, before he'd built a bastion around his heart, before he'd pulled away from the precipace of a first love with singe-marks on his palms.
everything's different now. he's different.
"well, unlike you, i'm still sober. so not great," he mutters, muscled arms locking around her back and beneath the crook of her knees to lift her easily as he stands. a few solid steps, and he lowers her down into the arms of a deep, leather sofa opposite him. "definitely too sober to fall for any of your tricks, liv." he draws away from her, snagging her bottle before reclaiming his seat in the creaking wingback.
"what the hell're you drinking anyway?" one whiff of the putrid stuff, and he discards it on the oaken coffee table. pushes it aside. "cauldron's sake, that could keep a fire burning for centuries! here," he pours her a crystalline tumbler of sweet bourbon, and offers it to her, an uncharacteristic edge of seriousness in his cobalt blue eyes.
"to what should we drink? errors of the past? hindsight? we've too damn many of one, and too little of the other."
Fuck, he's hot. She can feel his muscles as he lifts her and it just makes her want him more. Pouting as he sets her down, Liv wraps a strand of her own hair around one finger. "You're no fun anymore." Of course, she is lying. She never didn't have fun with him, even when he worked her to the bone. But with all that is going on now, she needs all the companionship and sex she can get. "And they're not tricks. I'm hardly subtle about them. I mean, I try to be pretty clear about what I want."
She smirks, taking a swig of the tumbler he passed her. "Delicious." She studies him, but he is a bit blurry, so instead she closes her eyes and leans her head back. Chuckling, she raises the glass, opening her eyes to meet his own. "That sounds about right." Liv shoots him a friendly wink, and chugs some more of her glass. "Every day we're trapped here feels like a hand gripping my throat–and not in a fun way. Just tighter and tighter. I feel so...suffocated." She shakes her head, letting her eyes wander to the fire.


















