don't play with me

it’s not a surprise to him that she can’t believe he really organized a trip for them. she had hardly believed the diamonds and they’d been right there in her hands. dirty blond laughs slightly when paper is thrown at him but allows it to wear off soon. “not a joke.” he confirms. “we’re going in january. if you could make time, i mean. but i think you’d love italy. and i love italy. it’d be lovely if you could join me on the trip.” 

fingers point at the lingerie she had unpacked shortly before that. “and then you can wear this for me too.” jonathan finds himself excited at the thought of going on vacation with her. for once they’d have their privacy. for once, they could fully focus on each other without paparazzi cameras on them, without sneaking and hiding what they were really doing. and for once, he would get a chance to wake up next to her. seneca wouldn’t be gone in the morning and he wouldn’t be alone. wouldn’t have to feel dirty by himself for what the night prior had brought to them. “so what do you think? can you come?”

‎

“Seriously?” she questioned one last time, her eyes narrowing on him. It was hard to imagine the man going to so much trouble for, well, his hooker basically. Then again, they did seem to the enjoy their time together. And if she said no, then what was he supposed to do, go alone? She grinned as he talked about the destination in question. She’d have to be careful about what she packed--how she packed it--to keep level the entire time, but she’d managed more difficult tasks before. And she wanted to go. A wide grin spready across her face as he heard him ask what she thought, and she knew she’d have to work her schedule out, but she was pretty sure Micah would grant her the time off. “Yeah, I’ll come,” she told him excitedly.

       lips meet hers and he is happy she seems to enjoy the things he has given her. even though the last present has yet to be unwrapped, jon still feels like seneca is happy. at least his money could give her that. at least, if he was demanding her time, he could give her something in return. “i think you should surprise me with it. or … you could wear it in combination with the last gift santa dropped off for you.” he doesn’t want to just tell her what it is. wants her to be fully surprised when he she opens the envelope with the tickets. 

at her suggestion, the dirty blond shakes his head. “it’s okay. you can give it to me the next time you visit me. i’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities.” aside from the fact that jon preferred giving gifts rather than he liked to receive them. it made him feel awkward and like he stood in debt now. so it was better this way anyway.

finally, he handed her the smallest present of the night. the envelope was so flat, it almost seemed like it was completely empty. once she took it, hands come to rest on his thighs so sweaty palms aren’t too obvious. 

‎

       he watched her face closely as the diamonds and the gold was revealed. a small smile on his lips because he enjoyed to see her overwhelmed and at a loss for words. quietly, just enjoying the moment of innocent excitement, he nodded, didn’t want to ruin it with his struggle to speak. the necklace was placed around her throat and jon closed it behind her head. then, blue hues came to admire her from the front, palm touching her face, thumb softly running under her eye. a tender touch, almost loving. oh how jon wished he could be in love. how he wished he wasn’t so damaged and could share this moment with somebody who he didn’t need to pay to spend time with him. sadness tugged on his heart slightly. at least he had chosen the right piece of jewellery for her. seneca looked beautiful. even if she wasn’t his. 

the package with the lingerie was handed over next. it was of equally high quality as the necklace. but money hadn’t played a role when he’d chosen the tiny outfit for her. not at all. not when he knew she’d enjoy wearing it. even if it may not be for him. “this.” he spoke a short word, a word that allowed him to pretend he wasn’t just as excited about the little christmas party between the two of them. again, encouragingly he nodded at her to open the gift. “this one won’t break if you shake it.” the dirty blond jumped through the words, clearing his throat to regain control.

‎

Seneca almost didn’t want to hand the necklace over to him to put it on her, still taking in how beautiful the piece was. She lifted her hair for him to secure the piece of jewelry around her slim neck. His hand on her cheek softened for her a moment, and she wanted to play into the illusion just as much as he did. It was hard for her to tell if these more gentle moments were things Jon felt he owed her or if they were the pace he wanted to set for their time together. She placed a small hand on his chest when she noticed something shift behind his eyes and avoided observing whatever it was--sadness, shame, embarrassment--by leaning forward to murmur another thank you against his lips that quickly transitioned into a kiss. 

Sen grinned openly as he placed another parcel in her hands and seemed delighted in the fact that she could shake it all she wanted to. She jostled it a few times, the tactile feel of whatever was shifting about in the box telling her it was some sort of clothing. She unwrapped the paper and lifted the lid so she could move the tissue paper away from the lingerie set he had picked for her. “They’re beautiful,” she said quietly, running her fingertips over the luxe fabric. She turned her face to give him another gentle kiss as her hand settled on his thigh. “You’ll have to let me know when you want me to wear this for you. Unless you want it to be a surprise?”

She chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment, knowing he would hand her whatever he wanted her to open next. “Are you sure you don’t mind that I didn’t bring my gifts for you along tonight?” she asked. She honestly probably should have thought to bring them along. “Maybe I could run home and get them.”

       originally, he had wanted to sit in distance to watch her unwrap the presents. partially because he was nervous whether she’d really like them or not. the other part of him? trying to hold back his own excitement because he couldn’t wait for her to unwrap all that he had prepared for her. to fulfill her small wish though, the dirty blond came to sit on the floor with her. memories from his childhood returned had he and his siblings found themselves in this spot every year. 

“don’t shake it too much. you might break it.” jon suggested, hand coming to rest on her palm to stop the motion. slight worry in his voice about the expensive jewellery wrapped up inside the gift. 

he already imagined her wearing the gold, how it would compliment her blond hair and the tan skin. jon imagined her wearing it with pride and while she thought about him. “go on.” the older one encouraged her to finally start unwrapping the gift. he could barely stand the suspense at this point and the presents weren’t even meant for him. not really. 

‎

Seneca was pleased when Jon came to sit by her. She felt a little less observed, though if he wanted her around just to watch her she would have obliged, but because she found proximity and company so comforting. “Sorry,” she squeaked, ceasing to shake the box immediately. For a moment, she closed her hand around Jon’s hand that lingered over her palm, but turned her attention back to the gift--the idea that he’d gotten her something truly expensive or breakable hadn’t quite crossed her mind. 

To soothe the poor man’s anxiety, she finished unwrapping the gift with as little jostling of it as she could manage before she looked at the jewelry box in her hands. She recognized the name brand and paused for a moment, glancing at him as if she was certain he’d marked a gift with the wrong name, but when he didn’t seem concerned she lifted the lid to look at it’s contents, her jaw falling slack as she blinked at it for a few moments. 

“Can you put it on me?” she asked, then blanched. “I mean thank you. It’s beautiful, it’s-I... wow.” She handed him the box for it to put it on her if he wanted to, still a little stunned at his generosity and taste.

“No thank you! I did my time in high school theater and I do not need to go back.” Lizzie said with a laugh, shaking her head. She admired performers certainly, but it wasn’t for her. “That’s great though! I’m glad you feel safe and that you can explore your artistic visions. No one likes being put into a box, it happens to everyone. Even bakers sometimes.”

“I mean, I know she had a song about birthdays, maybe if you switch slightly to cake it could work? But I’m sure there’s a song about ice cream by someone. Didn’t Blackpink come out with one? You could use that.”

There was an awkward silence and Lizzie felt terrible. She hadn’t meant to snap and not at Seneca who was being nice and obviously trying hard. “No no, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst and snapped at you. I don’t mean to be defensive about that. It’s just people never believe me when I tell them and it’s important to me and I have a lot of anxiety about it and I assumed the worst of you. It’s really okay, I’m fine, and I know you didn’t mean it how I took it.”

‎

“I just wanted to make sure,” Seneca responded in a quiet, steady tone trying to temper Lizzie’s reaction. She didn’t feel like Lizzie had snapped at her by any means, but it seemed now like she was a little anxious about how she had or hadn’t reacted to Seneca. She sat back a little to meet Lizzie’s eye and just relax for a second since her back started to ache from leaning forward for so long while she had worked on Lizzie’s makeup. “People get weird about bisexuality,” Seneca commented, trying to be as affirming as possible. “It’s not really my business to ask you to prove or qualify anything. I just didn’t want to like… make you feel like you were getting queer baited or something. Because that’s, like, equally uncool.” 

§§§

Mateo didn’t understand her willingness to just say things, and he had to fight his own shock at being called dude and asked such flagrantly disrespectful questions, one right after the other. This was probably the thief’s modus operandi- overwhelm, shock, and nab. He shouldn’t-couldn’t-wouldn’t give in, even in the face of such a pride-threatening accusation.

“I picked them based on energy and inspiration. There’s nothing haphazard about my naming process. Just because they’re a little more out-there than Bath and Body Works doesn’t mean that they’re ridiculous… as for this serial killer talk…” he bristled. He didn’t know anything about the Golden State Killer, or what he had to do with cufflinks, but thoroughness was one of his few true weapons against this reputation onslaught.

“If you consider the slightest look an accusation that you share something with a serial killer, then that is not something to blame me for. That is something you you should unpack on your own… your hyper-vigilance is not something that my cufflinks need to be exposed to.”

‎

“What exactly is the energy of a rusty spoon?” Seneca questioned, genuinely curious, even if she did doubt Mateo would humor her with an answer. She could tell that she was trying his patience, which he didn’t really deserve since he was only trying to do his job. She watched Mateo bristle as she mentioned the cufflinks and killer–she wasn’t sure he got the reference. “Uh, no, my dude. The Golden State Killer stole cufflinks from a victim’s house and they used those cufflinks–because they were also very specific and maybe even customized–to track them down to a pawn shop as a clue or something. I don’t remember exactly,” she mumbled as she began to trail off. 

Seneca looked back at him and shrugged. “But, I will spare you and your precious, precious cufflinks another minute of my company,” she told him, rolling the samples he had allowed her to keep on the palm of her hand before dropping them into her bag. “Well, this was fun. See you for more samples next week! I’ll call to get your work schedule to be extra sure I come when you’re working,” she told him as she walked toward the exit.

•••

“We do have pie,” he answered, scribbling the order for chocolate chip waffles with confidence. “If you want, I can set to bring that out after the waffles? Or even put it in a to-go box…” He had a fear of overcharging her, or even just letting a drunk person spend way too much money at his place. “Of course, that’s assuming that you’ll like the flavors… we have cherry, lemon, blueberry, chocolate, and a chicken pot pie, which some people count as a pie while others refuse to.” Some conversational distractions wouldn’t hurt, right?

‎

“Pie is so good,” Seneca sighed dreamily when Arlo confirmed that the diner did, in fact, have pie. Her blue eyes slowly floated to his face when he offered to bring her pie out after the waffles. The two things alone would be more than she ate on most days, but she probably could have put an entire pie away if given the opportunity. She drummed her fingers against her cheek as she listened to him list the flavor of pies. “Oh, cherry,” she said with a determined confidence. 

“been there, done that,” maurice replies to the toast and then downs his own shot. both his body and his bank account will hate him for it tomorrow but he orders another round. it’s one of those days when the limit does not exist but maurice is still determined to test that theory. getting blackout drunk might be the worst first impression but after the day he’s had, maurice can’t really bring himself to care. fun, this is what he’s here for. 

“lovely to meet you. maurice davenport,” he shakes her hand. he can’t remember when was the last time he’d used his full name to introduce himself; it’s all been either o name or first name only and with people whom he’d spend the night drinking and partying only to never see them ever again. you’d think that with this sort of life, he’s a college kid, not a grown man. “are you from around here?” he asks, eyeing the refills waiting on the bar, an exercise in self-restraint and he might just win. for the next minute, at least. “i don’t really know the city. bee here a couple months but i’m still exploring. i keep coming back here, though, so you all are doing something right.”

‎

“And you didn’t come up and help me regale the masses tonight?” Seneca asked after swallowing her shot with a slight grimace. She didn’t typically have joiners from the crowd, but for some reason the idea seemed to entertain her–only in theory, however. The woman was proud of how she commanded the attention of a room, she wasn’t particularly interested in trying to navigate some drunk patron with main-character syndrome. Such a description didn’t seem to fit Maurice however. 

Seneca wrinkled her nose when he asked if she was from Islesbury. “Fuck no,” she answered, perhaps a little too quickly. Islesbury was fine, she guessed, but she wasn’t in any rush to claim it as a hometown despite the fact she had grown up in an equally boring borough. 

Hand  waves  haphazardly  with  an  air  of  nonchalance,   it  wasn’t  the  end  of  the  world,   people  made  assumptions  about  her  all  the  time.   Partially  due  to  the  misinformation  spread  in  the  tabloids  but  none  of  it  truly  bothered  her.   “  I’ll  take  that  last  part  as  a  compliment,   I  always  told  Jon  I  was  the  more  attractive  sibling.   “   She  chuckles  with  a  impish  smirk.   Joselyn  had  always  been  proud  of  her  looks,   using  them  to  her  advantage  in  any  way  she  could.   This  definitely  set  her  apart  from  older  brother,   he  had  the  brains  and  stature  that  could  command  a  room.   It  was  the  unfortunate  reality  of  the  world  they  lived  in,   older  men  assuming  Joselyn  wasn’t  as  knowledgeable  as  the  men  in  her  family  just  because  she  was  a  pretty  young  woman.

Brow  quirks  at  the  blonde’s  forwardness,   a  welcome  reaction  to  brunette.   She  much  prefered  brashness  over  a  coy  interaction.   “  No  need,  I  can  see  all  I  need  from  here.  “   Velvety  tone  murmurs  softly,   taking  another  moment  to  give  her  a  once  over.   Joselyn  then  turns  to  glance  over  at  the  rest  of  the  club,   enjoying  the  sight  of  drunken  patrons  dancing  alongside  one  another,   after  a  few  more  vodkas  she’d  find  herself  joining  them.   Grinding  against  the  bodies  of  strangers  in  a  haze  of  flashing  lights  and  thudding  music.

“  I  was  going  to  say  he  seems  quite  taken  with  your  beauty  but  that  works  too.  Which  would  insinuate  you’ve  slept  with  him.  “   She  concludes  tactfully  as  she  turns  back  to  face  company.   Waiting  expectantly  for  Seneca’s  reply,   weather  or  not  she’d  opt  for  a  lie  or  admit  to  what  Joselyn  had  already  figured  out.

‎

‎“Well, bully for me,” Seneca responded as she took a sip of her drink, “because I really don’t feel like getting up.” She sat back a bit more, the chair behind her plush and comfortable. Seneca tried not to look too pressed as Joselyn gave her one last appraisal–not because she was nervous about or even cared about the woman’s opinion of her appearance–it just would have been an easier process if Joselyn had completed this little errand almost literally any other night when Seneca was in front of a crowd half naked anyway. At this point it just felt like a chore, and with a night off from keeping Jon company and dancing on stage she really wasn’t interested in being sexy or desirable for anyone or any reason. 

“I mean, I was just quoting Mean Girls,” Seneca commented casually, setting her drink aside before restoring her direct eye contact with Joselyn. Maybe it was an only child thing, but Seneca didn’t think it was routine for siblings to meddle in each other’s sex lives. What did Joselyn want from her? She was too tired to try and puzzle away at that question tonight. “Look,” Seneca spoke, deciding to just attempt to level with Joselyn rather than put up some demure wall or play cat and mouse, “it seems like there’s something specific you’re interested in knowing, so why not just ask?”

       they sit together, his hand on her thigh as always. he tells himself it’s a sign of affection when really, it just shows who has the upper hand between the two of them. not that he’s aware of it, not that he would believe she’d do what he wished he had the guts to ask for.   ❛   hm.   ❜   he pretends to think about it for a moment when he knows well enough that he isn’t actually going to help her.   ❛   it is something that you can carry along every day. to have me with you always.   ❜

jon leaves it to her to think about the many options this gave her. when they arrived at his place soon after he guides her into the living room right away. the christmas tree there is ridiculously large but it fits the massive size of the room. wrapped presents of any size sit under the tree.   ❛   a few of these are for you. you might want to check which ones santa wrote your name on.   ❜   excited about lingerie and jewellery as well as tickets for a vacation in europe, he comes to sit in the large armchair close to the tree. curious eyes watch her, encourage her to start unwrapping what is hers. 

‎

She dropped her head against his shoulder during the car ride thinking about what the gift could possibly be, though her considerations were clouded by his scent and the warmth of his hand on her thigh. Subconsciously, her hand lifted to his arm, running up and down the length of his coat sleeve as she enjoyed the proximity. “Well, clearly it’s a can of pepper spray with your photo on it,” she decided as the car rolled to a stop. It was a bad guess–but purposefully so. She didn’t want to spoil the surprise that he seemed so genuinely excited about. ‎

‎‎The route to the living room had started to become familiar, but compared to the bleak conditions in her apartment compared to the well decorated tree it still felt exciting to walk into the room. She kept her grip on his hand as she stared at it for a few moments, a pang of homesickness for her parents' own living room suddenly hitting her. His stuttered speech pulled her from getting too lost in her own thoughts.

       the smile on his lips is almost shy now. of course he knew that she was free all evening long. he had given her a punch of bills to make sure that she was. still, he wanted to make sure that seneca WANTED to be here. he lied to himself, he wished to believe that she desired to spend her free hours with him, to make time just for him. an act he liked to keep upright just for his own ego to get a little satisfaction at least.   ❛   i couldn’t let christmas go by without getting my baby a proper thank you for all the things you do for me.   ❜   hand was lifted off the table so he could press a kiss to the back of her hand.

❛   excellent idea.   ❜   waving the waiter closer, the dirty blond asked for their dessert to be boxed and paid the dinner too. jon didn’t even look at the numbers on the bill. he just wanted to spoil sen and himself. moments later, he helped her into the coat, using the moment to drag her into a small kiss. just a peck on her lips. just to mark his territory. just to make sure everybody in the damn restaurant had seen who he had pulled! since he was back, jon still felt like he had to prove himself. ridiculous maybe, but a ever present urge. even in front of her, he always felt like he had to make up for the position he put her in and had to prove: she wasn’t wasting her time. 

helping her into the car he was glad he didn’t have to drive. because a part of him was starting to get excited about giving her the present. 

‎

Seneca carefully slipped her arms into the sleeves of her coat when Jon held it for her, and seemed delighted enough with the small kiss he gave her. She knew what it was about, but appreciated the fact that he knew subtlety could be just as strong as waving a big stick. She followed his act of affection up by brushing her knuckles against the edge of his jaw and following him toward the car.

Attempting to walk to Town Hall from her shitty apartment miles away probably wasn’t the best idea Seneca had ever had. And yet, there she was, arms pulled in tight to her side, wind whipping through her hair, bare hands tucked into her armpits in a futile attempt to soak up any scarce body heat, and feet absolutely numb by now. Then again, it wasn’t like she had too much choice. She didn’t have a car, and she wasn’t about to ask someone to pick her up. Not when she refused to let anyone know where she lived. It was a little difficult not to feel like God was punishing her for her general dishonesty and drug-dependent lifestyle. 

The very thought left her unable to resist the urge to check that her small stash of pills was still in her jacket pocket despite the frigid temperature that bit at the bare skin of her hands. They were still there, enough pills to get her through a couple days without spiraling or withdrawing. She hadn’t thought to pack much else that would have done her some good, like dry socks or an extra layer of clothing or a comb for her wind-tangled hair. Then again, she was wearing just about as much wam clothing as she had–a T-shirt, an old long sleeve, a crew neck sweatshirt, and a very thin coat that was meant to be her winter jacket, but really wasn’t suited for temperatures under fifty. No gloves, and a pair of cheap leggings over a pair of beat up casual boots–she was anything but dressed for the weather.

@seneca-rolfe​       /       he had grabbed her bottom when she’d allowed him to kiss her in the car. a habit he had gotten quite used to ever since she had first escorted him back him and allowed him to own her for a night. it had the perfect size for his palm. almost like it was made just for him. and the dress he had chosen for her tonight showed off the goodies perfectly too. perfectly, to show off a little bit when they walked into the restaurant. just perfectly to make clear that regardless of the years of absence, jonathan hawthorne still had it. 

at the table, the whole time unless they were eating, he had held her hand and done his best to make her laugh. jon wouldn’t admit it, but he was fully invested in their arrangement which had yet to be named. not that he’d dare to chose the label. he was just glad she tracked along even if it was in return for thousands and thousands of dollars. “you know …” he offered half a smile to her. “if you got a little more time on your hands tonight i would love to give you your christmas present already.” thumb rubbed over the back of her hand, eyes hopeful as he had already set up the surprise for her. it’d be a shame if he had to sent it to her instead and he wouldn’t be there to witness the expression on her face. a true shame. 

‎

Jon grabbing her ass had become something of a greeting between the two of them Seneca had noticed. She definitely didn’t mind it, though. Tonight, she took it as a job well done embellishing the dress he’d gifted her and creating an entire look out of it. She had chosen to compliment the deep red velvet gown with a golden bangle and golden drop earrings, a tall pair of simple black stilettos and a deceivingly simple low bun with a few stray face framing tendrils of soft looking blonde hair. It wasn’t a mystery to her that she was meant to look good for him, for his sake and as a reminder to everyone else that--at least for that evening--she was unattainable to them. 

Seneca had made sure to get a few good pulls off her THC pen before Jon picked her up, which lifted her mood. Even if she hadn’t she enjoyed his company--but it made his jokes and the food better as her head swam slightly, the wine he’d ordered for the table mixing with the weed in a way that made the world around her feel soft at the edges. Everything as artificial, but she almost preferred it that way--was pleased with the artifice of this carefully cultivated happiness.